Black Swan Event
by 00Captain Crunch
Summary: Miranda Lawson thought she knew what she wanted, what she needed. Miranda believed what she was doing was right. Presented with an unexpected event, Miranda is left discovering herself all over again, for better or for worse.
1. Prologue

A/N: If you don't care for prologues, then go on and skip ahead. :] It's just mostly for readers who aren't as familiar with Mass Effect as others. (And there are a few) haha

Didn't know what to classify this story as. Pfft. It doesn't matter. The story won't follow the ME2 gameplay once I get a few things out of the way.

* * *

_The Black Swan Theory: "used to explain the existence and occurrence of high-impact, hard-to-predict, and rare events that are beyond the realm of normal expectations."_

_A Black Swan Event: 1) must be a surprise to the observer, 2) must have a major impact, 3) relies on human nature to later make up reasons why it happened in the first place._

* * *

Miranda was nervous. Or, what she thought was nervousness. Never understanding the emotion before, the extremist group Cerberus operative was new to the feeling. Top operative, that was; she had been of the rare few who answered directly to the boss of Cerberus, the Illusive Man, if there was even anybody else who did. Miranda liked to think she was the only one, though she continually considered the feeling she was his favourite. Nobody knew anything about his background; secrecy was his strongest ally, and with an organization like Cerberus, the Illusive Man would gladly stay quite illusive.

Cerberus had a knack for being notoriously extreme in their operations, going above and beyond. Miranda knew Cerberus did what other governments couldn't, and all for the greater good of humanity.

No, Miranda was nervous about her latest assignment: The Lazarus Project; bringing the saviour of the galaxy, Citadel Spectre, Commander of the best Alliance vessel SSV Normandy SR1: now grounded forever on a planet's surface landscape by destruction via laser, and the man who succeeded in destroying a machine of a species long accepted as myth that threatens all life, John Shepard, back to life, exactly how he was before. Ironically, he was also a man who hated Cerberus with a passion, and constantly violently shut down various Cerberus operations across the galaxy.

The Illusive Man needed Shepard for the fight against the Reapers, the sentient race of machines who are capable of wiping out all life in the galaxy. Considering so, the Illusive Man could have had anyone else, or a vast number of anyone else, that is. But he picked Shepard, the one man who he believed had it all; the one man who could build a team strong enough, and save the galaxy yet again.

Miranda was quite impressed with his achievements, which even included the Star of Terra, and she had been studying everything on him for two weeks now; the man was a hero, a legend. Unfortunately, reading it and interacting with the man himself were completely different aspects. Once the project officially started, Miranda would learn so much more about him, just by piecing Shepard back together.  
But Miranda marveled at the Illusive Man's decision in her directing the Lazarus Project. Of course she was the most qualified, Miranda's genetic tailoring practically sailed her way to the top. Why wouldn't she be picked?

More accurately, Miranda marveled at the trust. It finally dawned on her she proved herself completely to Cerberus, that she could get the job done, and Miranda knew she was the Illusive Man's most trusted. Cerberus was all she had; they took her in after Miranda ran away from her controlling father who created her, his 'dynasty', from his own genome, and in return she would use her abilities to aid Cerberus. Protection for a price, Miranda had no issue with the price either. She used her abilities to further aid humanity. The Cerberus operative's genetic modifications made her the best of the best: intellectually, physically, not to mention expertly honed biotics possessable, for a human anyways. Everything Miranda had was fabricated to give her an advantage, an edge. Even her looks were created for that purpose, and she found no reason in denying or hiding any of it anymore.

And given the subject at hand, only the best could bring back a person of Shepard's magnitude from the grave.

Of course, the project would take most likely years, in the shape Shepard was found in. With this project, with what was at stake, Miranda would not risk time over quality. His body was being transported to the facility she was in at that very moment; Shepard had been ejected into space after his ship was brutally attacked, which stood no chance, and his armor had been ruptured, causing him to die of suffocation and sub-zero temperatures. Miranda hadn't seen for herself, though she heard it didn't look good at all and she wouldn't let that deter her in any way.

Regardless of how long it took, how much effort she put in, or what was required, Miranda Lawson, Cerberus operative supervisor of the Lazarus Project, would do anything and everything in her power to bring Commander Shepard back precisely as he was before.

Miranda Lawson would do anything and everything not to fail.


	2. Rebirth

A/N: Reviews welcome :] Once again, I don't want to follow the gameplay, but that's just how it's going to be. :/ Not completely, just moments where important things happen. haha. Heads up, yes? Errors lots of places, it's cool. Tell me if you find any :]

* * *

Another explosion rocked the Cerberus facility, causing Miranda to grip the computer console in order to remain standing. Her blue eyes scanned the screens as she brought video feed and statistics up from her omni-tool. Someone had hacked the mechs, overriding their programming and turning them completely hostile. Everyone in the facility was being hunted down, the mechs left no survivors. Cerberus was a tight organization, and Miranda knew immediately they had a traitor in their midst. The personnel were all disposable; the only one that mattered was Shepard.

Unfortunately, he was currently unconscious on a table halfway across the space station.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. Miranda knew it was still too early, she should've run more tests, but she needed him now.

Punching in commands through her omni-tool, counter-sedatives flooded into Shepard's veins. "Wake up, Commander," Miranda shouted over another distant blast, her room linked to his via intercom. It took a few moments for him to show signs of movement. "Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now -- this facility is under attack," The station shook with blasts and explosions, undoubtedly from the mech attacks. _We're running out of time_. Grimacing, the Commander finally stirred, obviously in pain from the still raw wounds on his face.

_Thank God_. "Shepard. Your scars aren't healed, but I need you to get moving, this facility is under attack," He moved sluggishly, and Miranda couldn't blame him, but it seemed as though the word 'attack' finally clicked in his brain; Shepard's Alliance training kicked in.

Incredibly, Shepard was to his feet in seconds, and began walking almost immediately. It had been two years and twelve days, and the Commander already had near complete control over his motor functions. Very impressive, Miranda figured it would take anybody else weeks to get comfortable with walking normally.

Mentally sighing, Miranda shook her head, pushing away the thoughts. She needed to focus, chances to observe his conscious progress would present themselves later. If Miranda was still alive by then. "There's a pistol in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry!"

The Commander scanned the room, upon locating the locker, he sprinted over and pulled the pistol out, as well as putting on the armor that had been stored in the locker. It took Shepard a moment to figure out it was thermal clip issued; the weapons had been changed since he died. And then came back to life.

"This pistol doesn't have a thermal clip," Shepard said aloud, eyes searching the room.

Miranda pulled up more video streams from across the station, "This is a med-bay, I'll get you a clip from...damn it!" through a security camera, she spotted a group of mechs making their way toward the room. Sabotaging some nearby canisters, earlier mechs set them to blow, right into Shepard's path. "Those canisters by the door are going to blow. Get behind cover, now!"

The Commander ducked being a table just as the canisters went, shrapnel flying everywhere.  
Statistics flew up in front of Miranda; the bastard was currently hacking more mechs, directing them to Shepard's medical wing. _Bloody hell._ "Someone's hacking security trying to kill you, look for a thermal clip for your pistol."

Breaking from cover, Shepard stormed into the next room and picked a thermal clip from a fallen staff member, punching it into his pistol. The mech group finally engaged Shepard, and his soldier training took over, deftly disposing of the group in a matter of moments. Stepping over the metallic graveyard, he proceeded down corridors and hallways, turning when Miranda instructed, or going back when Shepard went the wrong way.

More explosions shook the metal giant, undoubtedly from the mechs picking the station apart. Miranda needed Shepard out of this place. Now. "Keep moving, we need to get you to the shuttles," Information was vital, and Miranda wouldn't let them fall into the wrong hands. As she used her clearance in the Cerberus network to access all the files, transferring them to her Omni-tool before deletion, Miranda saw a sect of mechs closed in on Shepard.

"Shepard, security mechs are closing in on your position, take cover!" At the moment he was attacked, more mechs burst into the control room, and began firing upon Miranda. _I don't have time to deal with this now._ Glowing a deep blue, she summoned her biotic power, sending a powerful warp at the group and catching all of them in its wrath. Miranda swiftly finished them off with shots from her pistol, and went back to guiding Shepard through the audio link in his armor. Returning to the control terminal, new video feeds flashed up on the display; the mechs were diverted from Shepard to her. They must have prioritized threat annihilation before killing Shepard, given at the time he wasn't a threat; he was asleep. Or unconscious, at least. This was her opportunity; taking advantage of the situation, Miranda did everything possible to bring the mechs to her and away from Shepard. It was the only way to get him to the shuttle in time. As much as the Cerberus operative hated it, she was expendable compared to the Commander. _Cerberus didn't spend over four billion credits on me._

Shepard was continued down through the station, and another wave of mechs hit Miranda's control room. They were entering more frequently, and Miranda was nearly spent on thermal clips. Resorting to her biotics was an idea, but she couldn't survive off it alone. Gracefully dispatching the mechanical soldiers, she returned to see Shepard listening to her video journals in a lab. _Damn it._ It didn't matter to her that the Commander was listening to what happened in the past two years. It mattered that he was spending precious time, the station couldn't hold out for much longer. And neither could she, in this hellhole Miranda was defending.

"Don't waste time; I can't keep the mechs distracted for long," A new torrent of security mechs flooded the room, and Miranda has to resort to a massive amount of biotics and overdrives to take the metal skeletons down. It was now or never, the files had finished transferring and Miranda needed to get to the shuttle, or she would be brought down in the Cerberus space beast.

"You're doing great Shepard. Head to the next room and I'll try and meet you, " Suddenly Miranda's console began shutting its systems down, unwilling to her own demands. _They must've found me! This damn computer won't be of any use in a moment._ The last surveillance feed she was able to see before it closed was the camera outside the control room. Mechs were coming, fast. And a very large number, at that. "Shepard, do you read me? I've got mechs closing in on my position," Miranda hoped her audio went through, it was unlikely with the systems shutting down at a drastic rate. There was no choice but to continue without further aiding Shepard.

The mechs finally reached her, but Miranda was prepared. Gathering grenades she had been holding onto, the operative launched them all at once into the group. _Quite a tragedy, but this station is going down anyways._ The explosive power sent large portions of metal everywhere, leaving some robotic soldiers crawling on the ground from the loss of their legs; those were the lucky ones. Miranda followed up with a large warp, directed at one, yet made contact with many.

Vaulting through the carnage, Miranda raced down the hallways, taking routes and shortcuts to the shuttle bay. Some of which only she recognized. Miranda could only hope that Shepard would somehow meet up with Jacob. Jacob use to be an Alliance soldier as well, now he was little more than a hired gun to guard the facility ever since he left Alliance jurisdiction for Cerberus opportunities. Hopefully, Jacob was still alive. And hopefully, he would make it out too.

Gunshots and detonations could be heard throughout the station, it seemed as though Shepard was blazing through the station, obliterating any obstacle. Even through the concern of his, and her, safety, Miranda couldn't help but marvel at the speed of his progress. It was estimated Shepard would take several weeks to be completely functional again, even after regaining consciousness. The rude wake-up call must have triggered something unforeseen about the Commander. Wilson, their top scientist, hadn't encountered any type of medical modification, maybe it wasn't a physical attribute, but a characteristic found in Shepard's personality, his drive. Duty? Survival? Determination? Even Miranda hadn't the slightest clue, but she remembered the first moment she had seen this glimmer of resolve in the commander. It had been weeks ago; Shepard had somehow managed to wake up on his own, outside estimates and medical facts. He had looked pained and distraught, like he wanted help. The Commander fought off the sedatives Wilson had given him, and only returned to his coma state after Miranda had ordered another dose injected. If only Wilson had run the numbers more thoroughly, she wouldn't need to assist the blundering scientist in his attempts. Miranda abruptly stopped.

_Damn it straight to hell._

Wilson. He hadn't been checking on Shepard, he had been attempting to kill him! That's why Shepard had reacted that way. Her shock melted away, and the only emotion visible on Miranda's face was that of complete rage. How could she not have seen this? Miranda never took on to Wilson to begin with; something about him made her skin crawl with repulsion. Her blindness to the scientist's intentions had put the Lazarus Project in complete jeopardy, and damn it, Miranda would _not_ let that slip.

Not from herself. And not from Wilson.

With renewed resolved, Miranda sped to the shuttle bay as the gunfire got closer and closer, picking stray thermal clips from destroyed mechs when case she needed them. There was only one shuttle off the station, and Wilson would either be heading to it, otherwise he would be spaced. It was his only resort, and Miranda would gladly meet him there.

Amazingly, no more mechs were encountered as she entered the bay, the shuttle currently unoccupied. Muffled voices could be heard through the wall, and Miranda walked over to the door leading to the bay. Out of the bay, in Miranda's case. The light on the lock flickered as someone entered the code, someone who worked here and knew the protocol.

Someone like Wilson.

Gripping the pistol in hand, she stepped right upon the door, it opened to a wide eyed Wilson, battle prepared Jacob Taylor, and Commander John Shepard, the living dead. Miranda grimaced in disgust at the sight of Wilson.

And in her cold, icy stare, Wilson immediately put on a coy defensive. One Miranda easily knew past. "Miranda? But, you were…,"

_I won't even give the bastard a chance to complete a thought._ At that, Miranda, without hesitance, lifted her Cerberus modified pistol to his head, and unrelentingly dropped a bullet square between his eyes. "Dead?" she stated, completing the falling carcass' sentence.

Jacob ran over, gaping in shock over her cold merciless deed. "What the hell are you doing?"

_You sure as bloody hell know what I'm doing_. "My job, Wilson betrayed us all," Miranda casually let her gun arm drop to her side as she glanced at Shepard for the first time. Not Shepard's body, but the Shepard she had been assigned to rebuild. As expected, he had his pistol trained right on her, unknowing if Miranda was a friend or an enemy.

After a few brief moments, he let out a breath, and lowered his gun."I had a feeling Wilson was just looking for a chance to shoot me in the back," Shepard glanced at Wilson's lifeless body before setting his hard gaze back to her eyes.

_I've known Wilson for more than two years now, and all it took Shepard was far less than a day to figure out something I hadn't even contemplated? _He was more than Miranda could expect, for the better, she didn't know. "Good instincts, some people are far too trusting to ever see that coming," Looking from Shepard to Jacob and back again, she beckoned to the shuttle. "Come on, let's grab the shuttle and get out of here," She gave a calculated stare to Shepard. "My boss wants to speak to you."

The Commander returned her with a demeaning glare, crossing his arms. "You mean the Illusive Man? I know you work for Cerberus," Miranda was actually taken back. Shepard, the man in the galaxy, who most likely hated the Cerberus organization the most, just spoke to her in a 'by the way' tone about such a subject. There was no anger, no hate, no…well nothing. Shepard gave the information to her as if he was merely annoyed nobody had told him in the first place.

Jacob. The man had good intentions. His good intentions got him in the worst of trouble, and Miranda honestly wanted to deck him in the face at that very moment. "Ah Jacob, I knew your conscience would get the better of you," she declared, holding her temptation back.

The Cerberus soldier simply shrugged and shook his head. "Lying to the commander isn't the way to get him to join our cause."

Miranda knew he was right. Admitting it as a fact to him was a different story. She turned to Shepard. "Well, since we're getting everything out in the open, is there anything you want to ask before we go, Commander?" Miranda would clear whatever the Commander asked up, to her own standards.

Remarkably, he merely looked around, and denied the opportunity. "I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime," He replied, and Miranda got the strong feeling he was just tired. It was understandable, two years and twelve days, and the day the Commander wakes up, he's got to fight his way out of a space station.

Back to the glorious life of the galaxy's stoic hero, so it seems. "Or two, in your case. Come on."

Miranda turned and headed toward the shuttle, the two comparable yet vastly different soldiers following behind her and the corpse of a man laying in his own blood, the man whom Miranda learn so little yet so much from, behind her. He would remind Miranda of her own past mistake that could've affected the entire galaxy.

One she would not live down.


	3. Reinstate

A/N: Yeah. Huge delay. I do majority of all of this (writing, review, etc) from my phone. And I haven't had the time since school. hurm, FINALS (which aren't for like another 2 weeks), so I figured I'd at least give you guys something. haha! About half as long as the last. Changed it up a bit, bros. :]

* * *

"I'll be expecting a more thorough report, Miranda." Smoke from a cigarette lingered in the air, the Illusive Man adding to the amount with each exhale from his lungs.

Watching the enigmatic holographic display around her, Miranda stood without moving. Finally heading off the mech infested space station, she had suggested testing to see if Shepard remembered anything of his previous life, before he died. As expected, he remembered perfectly, although some subjects may have hit a few too many buttons: Lt. Kaiden Alenko, more than others. The man was left by Shepard on Virmire to arm a nuke, destroying a critical science base that would've given Saren, the Spectre subject to a Reaper, an army of disease ridden Krogan. The choice obviously had been difficult for the Commander, but it showed Miranda he would take the risks to get the job done. That's exactly what they wanted.

As for the his physical condition, Shepard stated he was completely fine, as if he'd just woken up from a really long nap. Jacob kept vouching for his combat skills, but Miranda decided to leave the subject alone. She would toward all of the video feed to the Illusive Man, giving her boss a chance to gauge Shepard himself. Even if she didn't see him in action personally, Miranda was already convinced of his combat training. Seeing him at he shuttle bay was all she needed, given the Commander hadn't held a gun, or even functioned, on his own in the last two years. Miranda had to admit his performance at the station was quite remarkable.

Shepard's training had convinced her he would fight to the death, but it was still his motives that troubled Miranda. Was he in fact the same person? She was still wondering why the Commander was so calm, around Cerberus at that, and had more been expecting him to act hostile. The operative didn't even want to assume she missed something in her studying; Miranda hit every one of those documents, reading them over and over until her mind could remember every word.

"Is this really what Shepard was like? Are you sure we can trust him?" Miranda asked, an Australian accent following every word that left her tongue.

The Cerberus leader flicked ash from his cigarette, "You tell me, Miss Lawson. It was your job to bring him back."

Miranda's stature stiffened, remembering Wilson. The mistake that nearly put the universe in definite harm's way. "I'm prepared for any consequence following my lack of observation," she stated dully.

"Punishment for what?" He asked, smoke falling with his words.

She shifted, ever so slightly. "I failed to recognize Wilson as a threat, which put Shepard's life at risk," Miranda stated with an icy tone.

The Illusive Man sighed. "Wilson was an unforeseen event. What might have happened and what did happen are two very different subjects. Shepard is alive, Wilson is dead. You handled the situation exactly as I would expect from you. You did not fail, Miranda," His seemingly inhuman eyes met Miranda's; he could tell it still affected her. "What's done is done, this absolutely cannot affect your performance on this mission. Don't let it. "

Crossing his legs in his chair, the Illusive Man gave her one last look. "Once again, I will expect a completely thorough report on Shepard after Freedom's Progress. Not a detail should be left out," and with that, the holographic connection was cut off, leaving Miranda standing alone in the comm room; and with a bitter taste in her mouth.

Cerberus was everything Miranda had, and when she felt as though she failed, it turned into a reality in her eyes. Miranda always pushed herself, not because of someone else told her to, but because Miranda expected nothing but the best in all aspects of her life. Perfection was her obsession, and anything else was not taken lightly.

Returning to her computer terminal, Miranda was almost surprised to see Shepard holding a civil conversation with Jacob. The two shared something in common, it wasn't hard to see they could got along well. Regardless, Miranda could sense Shepard's hesitation, and he displayed this emotion openly. Not though words, but body language; the Commander was certainly not a hard man to read, although Miranda still hadn't picked up on the reason behind some of his actions quite yet.

Shepard turned to Miranda, his conversation with Jacob ended, and approached the Cerberus operative. Miranda honestly had no desire to even speak about Shepard, let alone talk to him directly. She pushed it all away, Cerberus needs him, and Miranda's irritation toward him wouldn't help their cause.

Putting on a blank face, Miranda looked to him from her terminal. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

Hesitating, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I just wanted to say thanks, for putting me back together and all. Since you were the project director I hear."

Miranda momentarily ceased her work at the computer, "I still am the director, project Lazarus is still in operation since you haven't been properly tested yet. And don't thank me, it wasn't my decision. But I recognize your efforts." His gratitude was not expected, maybe she replied a bit too calculated.

Shepard stood just a little taller, "Miranda, I like to get to know the people I work with, and you're making it quite difficult to do that."

_Ha. _Miranda mentally snorted. Since when did Shepard want to get along with Cerberus? "Last time I read your records, Commander, you had a notable dislike for this organization."

"Whether I like it or not, I have to put my past grudges aside if I'm going to work with you in stopping the Reaper threat," He folded his arms. "I'm putting aside my self interests for the sake of the galaxy, Miranda. I figured you would understand that the most."

She caught her breath: there was no possible way he knew anything about Miranda, other than what the Commander had been told. "What did you say?" She asked, more demanded, an emotion finally flashing over her expression.

Shepard obviously noticed her change of tone, but nevertheless kept his all the same. "Joining Cerberus would definitely require sacrifices," Even with Shepard's unconscious intimidation, Miranda caught him soften slightly; his stance, his voice, his eyes. "You must have had a family somewhere?"

Miranda abruptly shut down the terminal and looked up to meet his gaze with her icy stare. "This conversation is over. As you have already been informed, Freedom's Progress is essential to figuring out the attacks. I suggest you stop wasting time and prepare, talking to me won't bring us any closer to saving anyone."

Turning, Miranda stormed out of the Cerberus facility room to the shuttle bay, intent on doing her job, and that was all. She was definitely done speaking to him now, maybe for awhile, and Miranda saw before she left Shepard did not expect her reaction at all. He wasn't here to learn about her life, but instead to save all life. Besides, Miranda's personal life was of no importance to the mission, nor was it any of the Commander's business.

Even if Miranda knew everything about him.


	4. Rediscovery

A/N: Another short one (oh boo). Didn't really bother to edit this; see anything, don't fail to mention it. Have at it, kiddies :]

* * *

Freedom's Progress. One of humanity's efforts to colonize on different planets. Called a project to some, a home to others; where hope thrives for individuals seeking to start a new life. A place where colonists settle to escape the past, and set their sights on a brighter future.

Now all of that was a lie.

All of the inhabitants had suddenly vanished, men, women, children, everybody. Many colonies before had suffered the same fate, all human, and Miranda, even in her genetic perfection, couldn't figure out why. By the time Cerberus arrived, there was no trace of anything to help their search. Given the circumstances, they would have never found anything at Freedom's Progress either, if it hadn't been for Shepard.

Shepard's past relationship with the Quarian proved immensely useful, and he was able to obtain video footage of the colony through them.

Miranda sighed, as soon as they got a lead they were set two paces back. The video led to the Collectors; nobody knew anything about the Collectors, they came from beyond the un-ventured Omega-4 relay. The mission was proving to be exactly what they had predicted: impossible.

In spite of what they knew they were getting into, Shepard managed to grow on the crew of the Normandy. Even if he was the commanding officer, Shepard went the extra mile to get to know everybody. Everyone except Miranda, he only spoke to her on a professional level since their encounter at the Cerberus station. He obviously understood the notion Miranda gave off, and didn't pressure anything. Parts of Miranda regretted that; maybe she should just let Shepard be Shepard. Even if they all may die.

As ordered by the Illusive Man, the brunette began her report on Shepard; performance on the mission, what he had already accomplished, behavior and memories. Regardless of what the Illusive Man told her, Miranda left out her and Shepard's conversation, as it was irrelevant.

Miranda had finished her report and was about to send it off when she was interrupted by EDI.

"Miss Lawson, Commander Shepard is approximately 10 seconds from your office," EDI stated, her robotic voice integrated with emotion.

"Thank you, EDI," Miranda said, closing her report just as Shepard entered through the office doors. "What can I do for you, Commander?" She asked as he stopped in front of her desk.

Miranda could tell when Shepard was out of his comfort zone, he often rubbed his neck when he felt nervous. It was one of Shepard's habits that stood out the most, and he happened to be doing it now. "Is this a bad time?"

Miranda shook her head, "You've my full attention, Shepard,"

He shifted, "Can I ask a bold question?"

Miranda nodded, and he met her, gaze for gaze, "Why are you defensive when it comes to your family?"

Bold indeed. A bit too bold, "That is a matter I prefer to keep only to myself, Shepard," she quickly changed the conversation's direction, "If there's anything else..."

Shepard stayed silent for a moment, seemingly picking the right words, "I know you don't trust me, but it doesn't mean I won't listen when you need it. You're not alone, Miranda. You don't need to hold it in anymore," before letting her respond, Shepard turned and walked out the door.

The only thing Miranda could do was stare at the door he left from. She had been a solo operative; working with others never had been her thing. Throw Shepard in the mix, and now it was completely a conflicting situation for her. Miranda took a breath, getting back to work, but Shepard's words lingered. Maybe she should have given the man a chance.

Opening her report back up, Miranda fully intended on sending it away to the Illusive Man. Except Shepard was still in her mind, repeating those last words over and over.

Frustrated, she closed the document, "EDI, where is the Commander now?" she asked the onboard AI, getting up from her desk.

A voice emanated from the speakers, "The Commander is in his personal quarters, Miss Lawson, I will inform him of your impending arrival."

"No, don't tell the Commander I'm going there," she ordered, and made her way to the elevator. She past a few crewmembers on the way, who abruptly changed direction at the sight of her in the same hallway. It seemed as though she had a tyrannical reputation aboard the Normandy. Arriving in the elevator, anybody inside quickly exited as they saw Miranda enter, leaving her alone as she punched the controls for the top level of the Normandy.

Minutes later the elevator doors opened and the operative made her way to Shepard's quarters. Not surprisingly, his door was left unlocked; the man had no sense of personal security, that much was apparent. Miranda began to feel her resolve falter, but entered into the room before she could second guess herself.

Shepard looked up to her from his seat on the couch, and had apparently been in the middle of cleaning his armor. Pieces of it were strewn across the room, as if someone let a thermal grenade go off in the locker. Such tasks were unnecessary of a commanding officer, there was always a crew member who could have done it, but it was Shepard and his personality, Miranda surmised.

He looked a little surprised, "How did you even get in here?"

Miranda stood near 5 feet away from him, "You always leave your door unlocked," his surprise turned to confusion, and then was about to speak when Miranda cut him off, "Don't speak, Shepard, I just want you to listen. Will I at least get that?"

He nodded, his attention was on her. Miranda stood silent for a long moment. _As little information as possible, Miranda,_ "I don't talk about my family because it's not worth my time. There were never good memories, my father had me genetically enhanced, only to be his dynasty. He built me, and I could have anything I wanted, from him, or doing it myself."

She could tell Shepard was still listening, so she took a mental breath and continued, "Except he was a tyrant, you can already guess how I felt about that. When I grew old enough to make my own decisions, I left that life and everything in it for a new one. One with Cerberus, they gave me that chance."

She backed closer to the door, "I don't talk about my past, Commander, because nobody cares about your past here. It's the mission ahead; what is done is done, and talking it over changes nothing," and with that, she turned to leave.

"Well I care, Miranda."

She stopped in the doorway, not even daring to look back. _So much for not saying anything, Shepard._

His voiced filled the room, "Thanks for telling me."

Miranda then left before he could say anything else, entering the elevator with old memories flashing before her, ones buried long ago. She hadn't given a second thought to these in years, why was she now? Hitting the controls for CIC, the elevator closed, leaving Miranda to herself.

"Thanks for listening, Shepard."


	5. Intervention

A/N: Sorry for the late update. I took a vacation out of country. Came home to a broken computer. Funeral to attend two weeks after that. It's been up and down, I still dont have a computer haha. Something with credit cards, the parts won't come in. Lame.

I took a different turn for this chapter. Not crazy about it. But we'll see. Hurm.

This is like three times longer than the last chapter. Bam.

* * *

Bullets collided with the barricade Miranda Lawson had taken cover behind, bits and pieces of metal shrapnel flew randomly around her. Stray shots flew over the brunette from a seemingly very inaccurate mercenary, but it all kept her from leaving her cover to fire back. There were too many guns pointed her direction, and Miranda had no desire to dance with death.

Reloading her pistol, Miranda turned to the comm channel, "Shepard, I'm taking way too much heat down here, how many are there?"

A moment later, the Commander's voice was patched through, "Damn, Lawson, what the hell did you get yourself into? There's got to be at least fifteen on your position. Hold on."

Time seemed to pass by slower than usual, Miranda hated waiting. A few moments seemed too long, she shouldn't be in this situation in the first place. An explosion set off nearby, momentarily ceasing the enemy fire, and Miranda took the opportunity to leave her near exhausted cover. Launching a biotic warp at the group of mercs, she saw Shepard had sent a missile crashing right into the middle of them. A bit reckless, but effective. Miranda didn't want to count the dead, her sights were trained on the ones who began shooting back. Shepard fired another missile at them, the impact simply obliterated a few, and sent others flying, hitting barricades and teammates. Miranda quickly took out the remaining, and caught back up with Shepard.

Catching him grinning at the missile launcher in his hands, she reloaded her pistol again, swapping the spent thermal clip for another, "You do realize that was intended for vehicles?"

Shepard traded his heavy weapon for the assault rifle, "Yeah, but its pretty effective against people, the way I see it," he began moving forward, taking out any enemies in his way. "And it seemed too fun to pass up anyways."

Turning, Miranda threw a turian in the air with her biotics, deftly finishing him off, and returned to Shepard. "Are you sure Jack is even worth it?"

Jumping over a downed barricade, Shepard ducked through the door to the next portion of the space prison. "I don't know, but given she's almost downed the station by herself, Jack's got some incredible biotics." Pausing, he tapped in the team comm channel, "Grunt, have you found her yet?"

Miranda could hear the krogan raising hell, even through the metal walls. Grunt was a surprisingly beneficial addition to their team, probably the most efficient krogan she'd seen, even if he was supposed to be a genetically manufactured tool that didn't quite fit in.

Just like her.

"Who cares, Battlemaster! There's so many of you fleshy things to kill, I love it!"

Shepard shook his head and entered the next room, taking cover behind a low wall. Grunt was practically gorging himself in mercs, none stood a chance against the bloodlusting krogan. Although Grunt was very good at...well, what he liked most, Miranda knew expecting him to actively seek out Jack was a lost cause. The temptations of a bloody battle were too sweet.

Mercenaries flooded into the large containment room, shooting at their position, or just firing randomly if they couldn't pinpoint Shepard. The turian reaponsible for the sudden attack was holed up in the corner, using prisoner containment sheilds as cover. _Asshole._ Miranda moved next to Shepard, catching three mercs with her heavy pistol before ducking out of sight.

"Kuril is really starting to piss me off," he stated, firing his assault rifle on a forcefield generator.

Miranda could feel her biotic implant flaring up, pressuring her normally calculated demeanor. Now was not the moment for a biotic onslaught, and for some reason she couldn't seem to gauge her biotics as of late. It was either an extensive and usually unnecessary attack that left her more drained than usual, or practically no attack at all, leaving her in a more worse situation than before. It began to irritate the operative; control over her own abilities had been uncanny before. "The Warden?"

Shepard sighed, "He keeps blabbing about how much I'm worth, and the government, and everything else ridiculous. Or something, I could care less right now," shooting the second generator, he pulled out his missile launcher again. "Miranda, can you take out the last generator a bit more discretely than I did, as I provide a distraction?"

Miranda shot the him a look, "Is this a question of ability, Commander?" She asked, her tone laced with the slightest of sarcasm.

He just smiled at her remark, and leaped over the barricade, firing a missile into the middle of a group of Blue Suns. The Commander's idea of a distraction must have worked, majority of the mercs trained their sights all on Shepard. It would have been fine in any other circumstance, but the room was packed full of mercs. Shepard put himself between a rock and a hard place for her sake.

Leaving cover, she began down the small walkway leading to the last generator, only timing her fire exactly to Shepard's. Which wasn't very often."Grunt, I need you down there, Shepard is taking too much fire!" Charging right into the action, Grunt took out enough mercs with one blast from his shotgun to momentarily cease their fire out of surprise.

Miranda took the opportunity to race to the generator, with one precise shot the machine exploded and the Warden's secondary defenses diminished. All was left was his own sheilds and armor.

"Sheild generators are all down, Commander. It's just Kuril left to his own devices," she looked over to the Warden, who was too busy calling in reinforcement to notice her.

Static came through the comm for a second, followed by Shepard's voice, "Miranda, he keeps calling in more mercs, all on my position. Even Grunt is starting to have trouble with the number of them," Miranda saw Shepard paused to shoot down a few mercs, and returned to cover before a barrage of bullets hit everything around him. "There's no chance I can make my way other there, we're pinned down."

Miranda racked her brain, trying to come up with any strategy at all, but they were at the worst positions and against an impossibly large number of enemies. And in the middle of space. She couldn't think of anything, when normally the operative was the one to look to for tactical decisions. It made her feel completely useless. It made Miranda feel weak.

Her biotic implant hummed and recognizable blue static covered over her, its intensity rising along side her frustration and anger. She tried to pull her emotions down, Miranda knew they had no place in any mission. She finally couldn't hold the energy back, and let it go. Let her anger, her worries go. Right toward the Warden.

He only had a split second to look over and see her attack before to hit him completely. His sheilds and armor both dissipated within seconds, and the biotic attack tore the Warden to pieces. It was like he just exploded, Kuril was ripped to shreds and nothing was left behind to see besides a large red stain on the wall.

Miranda never learned _that_, she didn't even know what the hell that was. She slipped down behind a barricade, exhausted. Truth was, Miranda hadn't given a thought to rest in the last four days, going on five, with missions and worked aboard the Normandy. Rest seemed unnecessary at the time, her only concern was being as useful to the mission's progress as possible. Even if they accelled, Miranda felt as if she held the possibilities back, as if there was more she could've done, but didn't. Not out of choice, but ability. Miranda felt herself slipping in the field, and it caused her to push beyond the norm. Even further than she constantly did. Normally she could be fine for days on end with her genetics, but the pace was catching up.

With the loss of their commander the rest of the Blue Suns scattered, going back from where they came from, or just hid. Within moments the room was silent, save for the rumble of explosions on other parts of the station. "Miranda?"

The brunette could hear Shepard and Grunt make their way to her position, and she didn't want to move. She didn't even want to speak, but against her own will Miranda slowly stood up and met the two teammates.

Shepard actually looked a bit worried, "Miranda, are you alright?"

She nodded and began walking onward. There was a mission still unfinished and it was still the top priority. Anything else fell second, including herself. "All that's left is the docking bay, Jack had to have gone there."

Shepard seemed to hesitate letting her continue, but simply followed behind. Everybody's sights watched every corner and turn in case a mercenary got seemingly bold, but there was nobody who would cross their path after Miranda's biotic display on the Warden. They hid as if she was Jack. At this point, they could hear only yells and screams from the nearing docking bay.

Rounding the next corner, Miranda hit the control for the door, harder then necessary, and stormed through while pulling her pistol up level with the convict's bald head, Shepard and Grunt following suit with their weapons.

Blue Suns bodies were littered around the small woman, her nearly naked upper body was covered in blood-slicked tattoos. Jack simply stood and stared out the window at The Normandy SR2.

Miranda read the dossier and knew exactly what she was contemplating.

"Nice ship you got there," Jack spoke into the glass, a grin reflecting back. Shepard simply stood silent, his rifle trained on Jack.

Her dangerous eyes flashed across the hull of the Normandy, and she suddenly whirled around to face them. "You Cerberus fucks!" If it was possible, the convict would have spit poison.

She covered herself in blue static, her biotic charge growing immensely every second. Miranda felt the atmosphere in the room change, the air getting thicker and thicker. Jack was not a force to be tested, but Miranda wasn't thinking of being very negotiable at the moment. Just the slightest bit more pressure, she'll get a bullet in that bald head.

Shepard lowered his rifle, Miranda could hardly believe it. And then again, she understood completely. Glancing over, Grunt put his shotgun away at the sight of the Commander's action. His _stupid_ action. "Jack, I'm not with Cerberus!"

A blind man could see the anger swelling in Jack's eyes, her biotic field stopped increasing, but it stayed at its constant level. Just standing near her made Miranda feel small, but she put on a blank face and held her ground. "Fuck that shit! You can't take me back to Cerberus! I'll kill you fucking all before you even touch me!"

"I'm not here to take you, Jack," his stare met Jack's and even from his side, Miranda could see compassion in his eyes. Compassion. Understanding. Hatred. None of it made sense to Cerberus' top operative, all she wanted was to blow the bitch out of an airlock. "I'm here to ask for your help."

"What would a pussy like you need me for?" She snarled back.

Miranda found there to be no way of convincing her any further. "Commander, just let me shoot her."

Jack's biotic magnitude sharpy took to an incline and she was prepared to lash out with a comment, until Shepard spoke first. "No, I'm not going to take her against her will," he shot Miranda a hard stare, and then looked back to Jack. "The way I see it Jack, there's only two ways off of this station. With me on that ship, or out of an airlock," _Please the airlock._ "I need your help to, well. Save the galaxy."

The blue hum of biotics slowly faded, "That's sounds too damn cliche. How do I know if the Cerberus cheerleader over there won't try to put a bullet in my head later?" She asked, gesturing to Miranda.

"I'm sure if Miranda really wanted to, she'd have taken the shot by now," Miranda mentally laughed. The Commander paused a moment, "So are you in?"

Those same dangerous eyes suddenly got even darker. "If you're not with Cerberus, then I want every bit of data Cerberus has on me. And none of it left out." The tone in Jack's voice harshly stressed the last comment.

"Done," Shepard replied without hesitation. Miranda wanted to do nothing but shoot him now.

"Shepard, what the hell are you thinking?" Miranda managed to say through her mix of disbelief and frustration. Shepard didn't have access to those files, and she could tell he wouldn't lie to someone like Jack.

He simply ignored her. "And I'll see to it you get those personally." Miranda was definitely having a talk with him later. Cerberus protocol just got shot out the airlock.

Grinning, Jack gave Miranda a challenging stare. "This'll be fun," and headed to board The Normandy.

Shepard sighed, tapping his comm channel to the Normandy's. "Joker, admit Jack to the ship. And warn everybody ahead of time to stay out of her way, or they might lose a limb."

_"Got it, Shepard." _

It was only after Jack had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight when Miranda lowered her gun. Having Jack on the team just officially made it a suicide mission. There was no way she would cooperate.

_Shepard, what were you thinking, even accepting that dossier..._

* * *

"You, of all people, knew full well of Jack's background. Why did you even consider her for a potential ally?" Easily moments after she reboarded The Normandy, Miranda requested a meeting with The Illusive Man. Tension was running high aboard the Cerberus vessel, and its executive officer's patience was officially exhausted. Jack could possibly jeapordized everything Miranda worked for over two years on, and she wanted, no, _needed_ to know why that risk had even been suggested.

Surprisingly quickly, an audience was admitted, and now Miranda was face to digital face with her personal boss and overall missional manager. He took a drag on his cigarette before responding. "Jack's biotics could prove very useful to Shepard and the mission, not to mention her methods of achieving a goal."

Outside, Miranda had the same cool and calculated exterior visible to all, but inside her rising frustration was threatening to crack the facade. "She could easily get herself killed, and quite possibly everybody else, all because of a personal past relation with this organization!"

The Illusive Man had extinguished his cigarette, and the smoke rose in the holographic room. "I have faith that Shepard will be able to manage Jack long enough. But this is a suicide mission, Miranda. I'm not expecting Jack to survive, and I'm planning on exactly that." He paused a moment, shifting in his chair. "Jack has been evading us for too long, this guarantees she no longer poses a threat to us. The woman is a tool, nothing more. Jack's usefulness to the mission and Cerberus will be expunged."

_So that's it, then? You are expecting all of us to just die. Jack is just a tool. Is Shepard just a pawn then as well? _Miranda remained silent, senarios running through her head. _Am I just as equally disposable?_

No, Miranda had put too much work into Cerberus, too much of herself, to be on even Jack's level. She knew how much Cerberus needed her.

"I also want you to include Shepard's interations with each individual team member, including yourself, more in depth accordingly in your reports. I'm considering a few more dossiers and I need to know if they fit the bill. This is your newest assignment, I'm counting on this report," with a last lingering stare, The Illusive Man severed the connection and left Miranda in The Normandy's comm room alone.

Making her way back to her quarters, the XO didn't want to think anymore. The day suddenly hit her, and Miranda simply was tired. Regardless, there was too much work to do, she couldn't afford to rest with, well, the galaxy on the line. The magnitude of things to do awaited Miranda on her computer terminal as she entered her quarters on the CIC level, and the most logical thing was to start at the top of the list.

Which happened to be listed as 'Get me Jack's files.' Undoubtedly left by Shepard. Damn it.

As soon as she considered deleting the request, Shepard himself purposefully walked through her door, _I could have swore I locked the door,_ and stood in front of her desk with a worried look plastered on his face.

He sighed, "Miranda, Chakwaks just informed me she's noticed you literally haven't rested in now five days."

Cutting him off, Miranda spoke. She had work to do. "Commander, I'm genetically enhanced. And it happens to have its perks. I can handle beyond five days."

The Commander looked frustrated. Or maybe it was just her. Or maybe it was both of them, but he wasn't backing down. "Not five days as Miranda Lawson. You work constantly, and I've noticed you push yourself to be better all of time, maybe too much. Not to mention all of the missions I've mistakenly taken you on."

Miranda scowled, _"Mistakenly?"_

"Yes, mistakenly. I put you in situations where you easily could of been hurt. There are times you have to put work on the back burner, Miranda." Shepard ran his hand over his head, "What am I supposed to do without my XO?"

That was an easy answer. "You move forward. This mission is more important than me," She spoke as if it was an order. It might as well been.

"No mission is worth losing all of my people over, even if it's been dubbed a suicide mission," He pointed to the bed behind her, "You. Sleep. Now."

He may have been right, but there wasn't anybody else who would take over for her. "Let's be realistic Commander. I've got too much to do."

"Realistically, I'll take that terminal with me as I leave."

"You can't, its bolted to my desk."

He grinned, "Do you want to bet? I'll bet it won't be bolted to anything after I'm through."

Miranda knew Shepard never bluffed. Actually, she didn't even know if the man was capable of it given he never locked his door. It was almost reassuring, in a way. Shepard was probably one of the most accomplished humans in the galaxy, and he was definitely not perfect, that much was apparent. So why was she trying so hard to be perfect herself?

_Because you were made to be perfect._

Miranda shook her head. Maybe rest was needed right now. "Alright Shepard, you win. Only because I'm going to need that for later."

He seemed satisfied with her answer and headed to the door, but turned back before leaving. "I'm serious, Miranda. I do care about your well being," A last look at her, and the Commander left Miranda to herself.

Her own mission just got all the more difficult.


	6. Genesis

A/N: I apologise for such a huge time of inactivity.

So I give to you the longest chapter to date! :] There may be mistakes. But I don't care! Point them out if you see them :]

My kitty says hi by the way. She's meowing on my lap at you guys while I type this. Or she's meowing at me for being so lazy, I'm not sure. haha.

~a!

* * *

She was running. For, well, what felt like forever. Gunfire could be heard around her, but it sounded like she'd been hit by a flash grenade. All of the shots, all of the explosions, were muffled and the only sound that really made sense was that of breathing. Noise of the fight gradually came into focus, her sight masked in blue. That monochromatic scene around her pulled all of the details out of the air; the smallest sprays of blood, the bits of bone, dust particles from the kicked up by armored individuals scrambling around. They all looked the same, their faces had the same look, they all participated in the same chaotic order of action. Not a single one meant anything to her, just another obstacle to be pushed aside, turned over, and blown through all in one fluid motion.

A sole turian caught her through the disarray; his presence demanded attention, his eyes gleaming with self-supremacy and displaced confidence. Without a second thought, she attacked. It seemed like the only other function she had; as if there was a switch flipped on to activate the feral decision. That fifth force energy, that dark energy, melded with the hue of the scene and value was the only disassociating factor. It leaped toward him, the minutiae of his expression she never noticed before now clear. The force hit the turian and she could see everything rip apart, the seams of his existence disappear. She felt accomplishment, fatigue, astonishment, fear.

Except Miranda was running again. Everything came rushing back, the scenarios playing out exactly as they had before, a major case of deja vu. The people, the atmosphere, the sounds, her biotic attack flying through the air toward that lone turian. His destruction.

And she was running again. Everything was repeating over and over, she felt so very mechanical in that moment, unable to shut down. _What the hell was going on? Why am I doing this?_

_"Because this is what you were built for, Miranda. Serve your purpose."_

She felt that very biotic attack charge up, and looked toward her turian target.

Except somehow Commander Shepard, the man she spent two years of her life on bringing back to life, had replaced her enemy. He shook his head, his lips moving to form words Miranda couldn't hear. She was going to throw that biotic onslaught at Shepard, and as much as she tried, the operative couldn't stop herself. Miranda was on a circuit, wired to repeat the same actions, and no part of her willpower could break that code

_"Serve your purpose."_

Shepard was the last person she would imagine of attacking. He was too important. The universe needed him. Maybe Miranda even needed him. _Dammit, stop!_

_"Serve your purpose."_

She could only watch herself launch her biotics with unusual force, Miranda's eyes drinking in what she was doing against her will. Shepard's expression was not of fear but of disappointment, and the mass of power flew at him.

_"Serve your purpose."_

The biotic attack hit him. And all the bastard did was smile at her.

"Miranda?"

Be quiet.

"Miranda!"

"I said shut up!"

She was laying down. Why was she laying down? And why was it dark? Abruptly, Miranda sat up, bringing her fist up with her toward the source of the voice. She felt her punch connect, the force throwing her target back, and Miranda grinned to herself in the dark. That would shut him up for good.

"Holy shit!"

Something seemed different. Shapes began to take a form as her eyes adjusted, genetic tailoring aiding to increase the speed of that adjustment quicker than the human average of seven seconds.

"EDI, hit the lights!"

Her vision when white, the light piercing her skull. _Damn EDI, thanks for the visual overload_. She was sitting in her bed, in her quarters. On the Normandy. There were no mercs, no turians, no biotics.

Miranda looked over to see Jacob picking himself off of the floor. There was a slight pool of blood under him, undoubtedly from her. "Jacob? What the hell are you even doing?"

He groaned, "EDI informed me there was a huge spike of energy here. Since Shepard was gone, I decided to check it out. I didn't expect flying furniture and a good punch in the face."

Shepard. Gone? "What do you mean, Shepard's gone?"

Jacob stood, "He's out on a mission, what has gotten into you, Miranda?" She could see he was utterly confused, just as she was at the moment.

Glancing over, Miranda saw everything in the room was thrown, overturned, and littered everywhere. All expect her bed. Even her desk and terminal had been thrown against a wall and trashed. Dammit. "And what the hell happened here?"

"You happened! Bad dream? Because you decided to go Asari Matriarch in your sleep on everything with your biotics!"

"That's ridiculous!" Not really, Miranda could understand completely and her brain pieced it all together automatically. It had to have been a dream, there was no other explain for her subconscious phenomena.

He shot her a 'you're-ridiculous' look, and headed for the door. "Well, seeing as though you're fine, I'll be going now. I wouldn't want to get punched again. Or worse, based on these conditions," Looking around, Jacob gave her a concerning glance, "You should really have a chat with Chakwaks."

The hiss of the door followed the sounds of his footsteps, leaving Miranda to stare at her uncharacteristically disorganized living space.

Curiosity took over, and she attempted to use a biotic lift on a chair across the room, but her powers quickly winked out. Miranda was completely losing it. The idea of visiting Chakwas for any help left a bitter taste in her mouth; Miranda wasn't incompetent, but she definitely was at a loss right now.

Sighing, Miranda got up and picked her way through the mess as she got dressed in that skin-tight white Cerberus uniform everybody knew so well, opening the security lock on the door. Peeking out of the doorway, she saw there wasn't anybody around. Not surprising, during the Normandy's 'night' hours there wasn't any activity on the Crew's level. And those night hours were what Miranda cherished greatly.

Making her way over to the med-bay, Miranda could see Chakwas sitting at her usual spot through the window. Now there definitely wasn't an excuse not to see her. The motion detective doors opened as she walked through, the familiar beep following not far behind.

Brandy bottle in hand, Chakwas, looked a little confused to see Miranda in front of her, but quickly composed herself. "Hello, Miss Lawson, care for a drink?"

The brandy wasn't an odd behavior, but Chakwas usually would have been asleep like everybody else on the level, "No thank you, Doctor, but why are you still up at this hour?"

She sighed, and put her drink on the table, "Ah, you know. Comes in the job description. So long as Shepard's out, I have to keep huddled in here, awaiting his return!" The woman let out a small laugh.

As if on cue, EDI rang out over the intercom, "Commanding officer on deck."

If EDI's voice didn't wake everybody up, the notion of their Commander being back on the Normandy sure would. Miranda was tempted to look, just to watch the crewman scramble out of their quarters and rush to their stations. But she came here for a purpose, as much as Miranda would like to be somewhere else.

"Doctor, I understand you worked with Lieutenant Alenko over two years ago, correct?"

Chakwas paused, "Briefly..yes."

"What can you tell me about his biotic abilities?"

She seemed to go back to those days in her mind, leaning back in her chair and staring at nothing. "Kaidan was exposed to element zero at a young age, and later sent to Brain Acclimation and Temperance Training, "Brain Camp" as he would call it. The facility was shut down, and Kaidan joined the Alliance, though he refused any biotic training or implant upgrades. Having the old L2 implant, he was constantly suffering from the health side-affects."

That seemed odd. "Alenko showed impressive biotic abilities. Why would he refuse to use them?"

"He was the reason BAaT was shut down," the doctor frowned, "At the time, humans knew virtually nothing of biotics, so they employed turian mercs of the war to train the teenagers. One, Vyrnnus, was notably ruthless. He hated humans. Kaidan killed him."

Miranda blinked. "Kaidan was only a teenager, he killed a turian veteran of the First Contact War?"

The woman nodded, "As I said, Vyrnnus was ruthless. One day, Kaidan snapped in defense of a very close friend, and killed the turian with a full on biotic charge.

Miranda had never heard that before, maybe her extensive resources didn't reach as far as she thought, "I don't recall that in any records, how it that possible?"

Frowning, Chakwas seemed to hit memories possibly long buried. "You never saw it, because it technically never existed. Alliance wiped every piece of data they had from records. Even so, they can't erase everybody's memories. Kaiden told me all about it, he said it was his emotions, biotics controlled by rage."

_What does that mean for me,_ "Are you saying biotic strain can take over the self-control over a person?"

The military doctor shook her head, "No, more like emotional strain can take over someone's biotic output, simply overriding self-control if provoked enough. From anger, serenity, even fear. It all can change a biotic's control."

How very curious. Miranda had heard of such things in young untrained biotics, but never in one on Kaiden's experience level. Or herself, for the matter. There had to be another reason for Miranda's lack of ability in her biotics, she had been trained by the best, years and years of lessons. She was calm and collected; all emotions kept in continual check. Nothing could break her calculated demeanor, nothing. Or nobody. Miranda was sure of it. But she couldn't push away a feeling of doubt lingering on all of those words, nor couldn't help but simply wonder about it.

A sudden reply from Chakwas broke Miranda from her thoughts. "I find it odd for someone such as you to be asking about biotics. Why did you wish to know?"

_What is that supposed to mean?_ "Just rereading through old records, Doctor, brushing up on past squad members," she replied, and turned to the door for her exit.

"Even dead ones?"

Miranda Lawson, top Cerberus operative, and executive officer of The Normandy nearly missed a step at those words. Nearly.

"Even dead ones."

* * *

"EDI, lock to door."

The door's familiar hiss sounded behind her as Miranda made her way into the starboard observatory, a curt beep immediately following. At this point, it was the only place she could go, the only place she could really be alone; herself and the endless outside space. The two had somewhat of a romantic correlation, Miranda could only stand and stare out into her beautiful nothing.

"EDI, regardless of who it is, do not tell anybody where I am, and do not let anybody in here."

The onboard AI's blue sphere could be seen in the reflection of the glass, "What of Commander Shepard?"

She displayed no emotion, maybe just to reassure herself, "Commander Shepard most of all."

A moment of silence followed, and EDI chimed in, almost sounding hesitant, "Operative Lawson, Commander Shepard has been looking for you since he boarded the ship. He also inquired on your current location, and I informed him moments prior to my new orders."

_Protocol is a bitch sometimes._ "Don't let him in, I don't care what he says," she ordered, sighing. Miranda's day couldn't get any worse.

"The Commander is threatening to remove the door, I quote, 'EDI, I'll blow the fucking door down,'."

Miranda almost grinned at EDI, hearing the AI say anything near that on her own was just short of amazing, but such quote left almost nothing left to imagine. The Normandy's doors could withstand a blast big enough to level a small building. Even so, Shepard would find a way to get it done. Through all it this, Miranda simply said nothing, her eyesight touching stars and blackness.

Moments passed by, Miranda wasn't sure how long she was standing there, but she didn't care. Time meant nothing, her brain was done thinking. Miranda was in a reboot mode, and the peace was all she saw. No distractions, no work, no enemies or people of any kind; it was just Miranda, just _her_, and she no longer felt the need to put on the Cerberus facade. But without that facade Miranda felt like an empty shell, she honestly didn't know what was under it, and discovering herself felt like such a foreign ideal. Being told what to do, how to act, _how to be_ her entire life left no room for any possibilities of Miranda even feeling human.

The security lock flashed in the window, a beep followed and the doors opened. Miranda could see Shepard standing in the doorway; he somehow must have somehow overridden her orders to EDI. The AI was Cerberus based, but somehow took rank as a higher system than the organization as a whole. Somehow Shepard had even changed their AI to side with him, and it irritated Miranda.

Shepard strode in, his footfalls breaking the silence of the atmosphere with each step ending just barely inches behind her. He was a wall of near eight foot goddamn steel, the man hadn't even considered removing his armor after boarding. Miranda could the reflection of him in the glass window in front of her; see scratches and dents that hadn't been there before, discolouration from burns, soot and ash smearing sections of the surface. Most of all, she could see his face more clearly than she wanted. And Miranda was sure as hell he could see her just as well.

_Miranda, don't you dare turn around, _"So what did you tell EDI to get in here?" She shifted her focus from the glass to the scene outside, his reflection faded away to an unrecognizable and near transparent blur.

There was an undeniable heat emanating from his armor, and for some reason Miranda could feel it, even through her climate-controlled uniform. "Override codes. I got impatient with EDI," _Forget what I said about an AI's loyalty._

Seconds struggled by, Miranda didn't want to speak to him, couldn't bring herself to. Or just couldn't find the right words, she wasn't sure. The silence was almost intimidating, it made her feel small. It may have been Shepard practically standing on her too. Miranda heard him take a breath as if Shepard was going to speak, but he hesitated for a moment, "What are you thinking about?"

The question caused Miranda to tense just the slightest out of instinct, she'd possibly let her guard down too much. What was she supposed to tell him? "I was merely thinking about what to do about my office, given its lack of workable environment."

Shepard snorted, "Please, Miranda, you expect me to believe that?" Her silence appeared to answer his question, and the Commander continued, "I walk in the door, you are standing so much more relaxed than I've ever seen, you have this completely distant look in your eyes as if you're staring at nothing at all, and if you were concerned about work, you would be hounding somebody to get everything fixed. Which all changed 180 degrees as soon as you saw me."

Damn cybernetics. Miranda wished he wasn't as perceptive at times. Mostly right at the moment. Her gaze shifted back to his reflection, she could see Shepard lean forward, hardly noticeable, but Miranda picked it up none the less.

That commanding voice almost seemed to change completely, his tone dropped to a near whisper and there was a new undeniable softness on every word, "Must I go on? It's the little things that give you away, Miranda. You can't hold yourself behind that Cerberus marked mask much longer. And I can see you want out."

Maybe it was just frustration attempting to conceal her fear. Fear that he was completely right, and she had no idea what to do about it. "And that makes you believe you know what I want, Shepard?"

If Miranda hadn't been so close, she would have never heard a word of what he said, "Well, what do you want?"

_I don't know._

"I make my own guesses. You never tell me about you, Miranda. Not the Cerberus operative you were made to be, but the person you were _born_ as." She could see his eyes move out and look at nothing, something, the wall. Everything.

"If it helps any, I'll tell you things about me you would never have known from a data pad," That was hard to imagine.

"I can't sleep unless it's completely dark in my quarters," This was understandable.

"Uhm...I can't stand peanut butter," she may have to try it just to see for herself.

"My favourite musical piece overall is Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake," Miranda almost grinned, that was definitely surprising.

He looked up, catching her eyes in the glass window, "I enjoy the smell of lavender."

All of this was irrelevant, Miranda turned abruptly around to face him. Shepard was way too close for comfort. Or maybe not close enough.

She shook her head, her mind was in such a deranged mode the operative no longer took note of anything it said, of anything it screamed to Miranda, nothing of what it seemed to believe she wanted or needed. Maybe she should listen to herself for once, but it was never to be a possibility; any work demanded her one hundred percent. And even that began to take the notion of opening failure . That's all Miranda needed to do; work. It's what she wanted to do. Or, at least that Cerberus side of her did. It worked quite well at keeping her mind off of things.

She needed to make him stop now, before he kept rambling on about trivial things. Not that she had a problem with it, it even was somewhat charming. "Shepard, there is no reason to tell me any of that. Nor is there a need to."

She saw it in eyes. Miranda could see he still wanted to test her barriers, and at this point Miranda wasn't sure she had many left. "Then talk to me, Miranda."

She dropped her sight; it seemed to take too much effort to look at him any longer. Shepard was asking things of her that Miranda couldn't give to him. Things she couldn't ever give to him, separating herself from all outside connections was crucial; anything even slightly under the surface is a liability to her work, a liability to Cerberus. The oncoming threat of a reaper invasion is so much more important than anything, especially herself.

She heard him move, just the slightest sound, but a movement nonetheless. It had been his arm, his hand reached up to tilt her face back up to his. Those eyes her sight fell upon showed a whole new side of Shepard, an entirely different altruistic side of him. He had always been somewhat of a humanitarian in any situation, but this side was all new to Miranda.

"Help me understand, let me in," Shepard had a look in his eye that shouted at Miranda, she didn't know what it was. Frankly she didn't care at that moment; it just seemed right and that was what mattered to her, to matter to someone else as a person and not a tool.

She could just be kidding herself, but immediately pushed aside her logical half. Right now logic was the last thing Miranda wanted.

"Shepard. I don't really...understand anything myself," picking the right words were proving to be a challenge for the operative in that situation, finalization coming unsteadily. "I don't know much of anything, but what I do know is that I-,"

"Operative Lawson, you have just received a personal message in your inbox," The echoing of the AI's voice caused both Miranda and Shepard to take an instinctual step away from each other. EDI knew how to make herself clearly and openly known, that was for sure.

Normally EDI would have no need to inform her of such things. But considering Miranda's personal terminal was currently out of order, she almost could thank EDI for the notifications. Almost.

She looked over to the bright blue sphere, "EDI, couldn't you just tell me what it says?"

"I am unable to open the document, it protected by A052 encrypted security."

It was more than likely one of her personal contacts that stretched across the systems. Supplying her with Cerberus interested intel. But EDI was one an AIs that could easily pass those barriers, "EDI, did you even try?"

A brief moment passed by, "No," and EDI's holographic presence disappeared.

There was more of an awkward stillness following EDI's departure, neither of them finding any seemingly suitable words to speak. Miranda had been the first one to break that silence. "I'm going to go…check that," Might as well now.

He had a confused expression imprinted to his face, "How? I saw your terminal was, well. Out of commission."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Commander. CIC does have another terminal."

Shepard blinked, "I can't believe Miranda Lawson is going to openly view messages in the CIC, where everybody else can see them."

He had a point; any intel she may get shouldn't ever reach crewmen directly. "Until I get my quarters pieced back together, I'll be forced to use it."

"Well, not necessarily. I've got this terminal up in my quarters, that I happen to never use nor check,"

_Thanks, Shepard. It's good to know you don't use what Cerberus provides you._ There shouldn't have been a reason for Miranda to say no, even more so to say yes. But she could only decline; anybody in CIC would surely avoid the operative as soon as she arrived. And Miranda was completely content with that. "No need, I'll make due Commander."

"If you insist, Miss Lawson," and with a last look, Commander Shepard turned to take his leave from the Starboard Observatory.

"…Shepard," Miranda's words caught him as the doors opened, recognizing movement of Shepard's leave.

"Yes?"

"Tchaikovsky? Swan Lake is my favourite too."

He turned back to look at her, a grin fixed to the man's face. And this time, Miranda wasn't afraid to smile back.


	7. Aegis

A/N: Sorry for super long wait? I know, no excuse. So read on :]

I also notice I like using fragmented sentences. A lot. It's ridiculous. haha. Do notify me of anything incorrect.

* * *

_To: Executive Commanding Officer Miranda Lawson, Cerberus_

_Subject: We've got a lead._

_I apologise for the security inconvenience. Our Cerberus tech personnel updated the A502 coding, and I wanted to test it on the best system. EDI scans all incoming messages aboard the Normandy, including yours; I knew EDI would recognize the coding. Decrypting it, however, I'm hoping she was unable to achieve._

_Simply opening this message manually on a terminal passed the firewalls, but a VI, or even an AI, wouldn't have known that. _

_I've received new intel; a colony on planet Horizon, Iera system, Shadow Sea cluster, has just been engaged by the Collectors. This is the most warning we've ever been given, the closest we've ever came to encountering them, so I'm sending the _Normandy _to investigate immediately._

_I'm expecting you groundside, Miranda. Collect as much data as possible, evidence and clues of what the Collectors are planning. With any luck, engage the enemy, make note of Collector variations in species, battle techniques, technology, the whole nine yards. I even want to know what they eat for breakfast. _

_A communication link will be set up for you upon immediate arrival back to the _Normandy_. This is a crucial time for our efforts, Miranda. You know what it means._

_-The Illusive Man;_

_Cerberus_

* * *

Working helped Miranda forget about trivial things. It was the cure for her inability to confront such situations, situations that she threw on the back-burner. Especially one specific situation. Maybe it didn't help her forget, but gave her an excuse to avoid them. Except that just wasn't possible for this particular operative, because her character was as assertive as a personality could get.

_That's because all you knew before was work. Wake up and smell the coffee, Miranda, because your life just got a little more personal._

And that was why she kept herself as busy as possible; to keep her sane and grounded and away from things that would affect her ethic and ability to succeed. Things that would affect Miranda's usefulness.

_"All active personnel to the Debriefing Room." _

She rounded the corner of the _Normandy's_ armory to the automated doors leading inside the comm room. Pre-mission briefings always gave her a feeling of subtle excitement, although nobody would ever know it. Miranda was among the last to enter the room, and Commander Shepard had already begun regardless of a few missing stragglers. The bulk of his squad members were there, and they'd be doing the bulk of the groundwork.

"-has just confirmed of a possible working barrier against the seeker swarms. This will give us the advantage of surprise; the Collectors won't be expecting anyone to be immune to their stasis fields,"

Miranda shifted her weight, and her gaze around the room. Every attendee seemingly knew the importance of this mission, they were so focused on the Commander's words that a geth soldier could walk in and begin to speak to them. And nobody would have even noticed.

"We can hopefully intercept hostage transportation; figure out what they are doing to the colonists, what the Collectors want with them. We need to find out as much as possible about them. And as much as I wish it was so, saving colonists is not our number one objective,"

Shepard looked around the room, around to the people who were looking for direction and guidance from the soldier given a second life. A room full of people who were the weight behind his punch. "I'll be groundside with Jack, Grunt, and Garrus. I'm hoping with a balance of biotics, tech, and raw firepower, we can handle anything the Collectors throw at us,"

Curious. She wasn't listed as ground team. Or Shepard just forgot to mention her. Nevertheless, Miranda would fix it momentarily.

"Mordin, I want you to analyze the readings and statistics we pick up down there. Anything that gives us a slight advantage, I want to know asap,"

The salarian doctor nodded, his usually talkative personality quelled by the situation at hand.

"The rest of you pick apart any data you receive. The most seemingly insignificant piece of information could lead us to defeating these things. Nothing is to be missed. We hit planet side in twenty minutes, everybody prepare for any and all tasks at your station. I want my squad suited up and assembled down at the cargo bay in fifteen,"

After a momentary pause he placed his N7 helmet on the table, followed by a simple nod from the Commander and the crew scattered. Some began rushing to their stations, others collaborating with fellow crewmen. A few said little of anything, focusing solely on their own roles, and the atmosphere in the ship was nothing less of intense. The last crew members exited from the room, leaving Miranda feeling the eyes of one walking dead Commander Shepard on her.

She realised maybe waiting for him to speak first wasn't the most rational decision, and jumped right to the point of her extended stay, "Commander, request to join the ground team on Horizon for this mission."

"Denied."

There was no hesitancy, no pause, no brief silence, no anything. Shepard's simple one worded answer was enough to set her off already. He hadn't even considered her request, and that's what pissed Miranda off the most.

"Shepard, you're making quite a mistake. I don't think you understand the impor-,"

"Lift my helmet with your biotics."

The operative was momentarily caught off guard; she wasn't used to being cut off. Ever. And it wasn't helping her rising frustration level either. She had subconsciously noted Shepard's helmet, though considered it had no significance at the time. "What does my biotics have to do with anything?"

She got no verbal response, only a lift of his eyebrow and a nod in the helmet's direction. Looking over, Miranda's reflection became quite apparent in the visor as it sat there glaring a mockery challenge back at her. There wasn't time for something like this, not when the Collectors were out there kidnapping people for who knew what.

Miranda didn't summon biotic power, didn't raise her hand or lift the helmet off the table and launch it at the Commander's head harder than necessary, consciously anyway. But it happened. She only saw the look in his eye as he caught the projectile with an armored hand.

He glanced down back at his N7 helmet, the one he never used for combat, the one he ended up dying in, and put it back on the table. "Okay, you're groundside."

That was oddly easy enough. Maybe she would throw things at his head to get her point across more often.

"I'm glad to see you changed your mind," satisfied with his answer, Miranda could feel the frustration in her simmer down, and turned to exit.

"Miranda, wait,"

She stopped at his voice, and turned to face him once more. "Yes, Shepard?"

"Could you do that again? Biotically speaking, could you lift the helmet?"

Such an odd request, it's not like he had seen it damn near a million times in combat already. "Why would that be necessary?"

He was unusually unreadable, "Don't make me order it, I'd hate to pull rank on something like this,"

_He only thinks he's a higher rank that I am._ "Fine, Commander," and Miranda went through all of her mental, and physical, steps of pulling out the inner biotic. She focused that energy on the helmet for such a simple maneuver.

Except there was no power. Nothing happened at all.

She stood with an incredulous look on her face "What the hell, I just-,"

"Well Miss Lawson, it seems you'll be staying above on the Normandy this round,"

He seized his old helmet off of the table, and Miranda shot him a deadly glare, "Damn it, Shepard, do you even realise how important this is? I need to be down there,"

He shot her the same look back, "Miranda, you need to figure out this situation with your biotics. I can't rely on just your raw combat skills when biotic attacks are built to muscle memory!"

The Commander had a point, Miranda's biotics were second nature. A subconscious attempt that would fail could leave her wide open. But as if she was going to admit the man was right.

She heard him sigh, and a much softer look replaced Shepard's previous expression. "I need you. I'm not going to send you down there and risk everything, nobody even has an idea of what we're up against,"

What a ridiculous reason, "I knew exactly what I signed up for, Shepard, I knew the risks,"

"Yeah, well I didn't. Contrary to you, I was brought back to life in this situation. So I will not send any of my people off into something reckless,"

_Shepard, you're the damn definition of reckless._

"I don't care what you want to think, Miranda, what the Illusive Man wants you to think, or anybody else. You're not a tool, and I'm not going to use you as one," He glanced down at his omni-tool, "Besides, I prefer my XO as a beautiful sensible woman anyways." He gave Miranda the smallest smile and walked past her out the door, muttering some nonsense about Joker trying to take her job.

All of a sudden, staying on the _Normandy_ didn't seem as bad as Miranda initially thought.

* * *

"_Normandy_ to ground team, we're your eye in the sky, what's your status, over?"

Static filled the communication channel, followed by a voice, _"Joker, is that completely necessary?"_

The pilot frowned, "Hey, a man can dream,"

_"Besides, if you were our 'eye in the sky', you wouldn't need a status report,"_

Miranda almost grinned, the constant back and forth chatter between the Commander and Joker. She guessed it was one time Joker's constant commentary was useful, it broke the icy mental overlay on what they were doing. It made the situation almost tolerable, a mission leading up to one that wasn't crazy or insane. Even though, by all means, it was. But everybody knew that already, they all knew what could happen later on. But somehow Joker took the weight off shoulders, made things more nonchalant.

_"I'll patch through another update in twenty."_

She could see Shepard's link disconnect from their channel on the terminal hologram in front of her. Vitals were displayed on various monitors around her for each squad member, none sustaining any damage so far besides the shields. Mordin's seeker swarm deterrent was quite successful, the little drones veering off in different directions, confused by jamming signals. Contrary to belief, everything was going quite smoothly. Maybe the Collectors weren't as dangerous as Cerberus first suspected.

"Miranda," Joker's sudden worried voice cause her to glance over, "I think we have a problem. All of our communication frequencies just went down, and we've lost ground visuals,"

Miranda checked all of the numbers, ran the probabilities and statistics over everything imaginable. Everything came back perfectly normal. Until the squad vitals dropped completely off the grid.

"EDI, what the hell is going on?"

She could see EDI's blue illumination out of the corner of her vision, still scanning over the terminal displays. "Our communications are being cut off completely from Shepard and his team. I am attempting to re-establish connections, but progress is being interfered by an anomalous source,"

"Joker, I need a visual now!"

The Normandy's control holograms were constantly changing with Joker's touch, running numbers, video feed, anything he could think of. "All of our systems are being locked out of everything on the ground, I can't do anything!"

Miranda paused to collect her thoughts; frustration wasn't going to help anything. Direct feeds were completely cut off, and they had nothing to backup communications on the systems.

Nothing Cerberus, at least.

"If we can't use our systems, we'll use someone else's. EDI, bounce our signal off of orbiting Alliance satellites,"

"The only accessible Alliance satellite near our current position can only impart segmented visual feed until the next satellite moves within viable range,"

Not surprising, considering who it belonged to. But it was better than nothing, "Do it, we need to know what's going on down there,"

A moment passed by, and Miranda's terminal lit up with multiple ground pictures. Most were of empty buildings and dead collectors. An image popped up, Miranda caught a glimpse of what looked like an armored man, but it was replaced before she could be sure. "Stop, back up a few images,"

It was him. And multiple enemies surrounding Shepard's position, but that was all. Where was the team? "Lock onto those coordinates. Is the next satellite in range yet?"

The blue avatar dimmed and minimized, "Establishing connection to Shepard's frequency now,"

Static was heard through the link, gunfire sounding off in the background, and Miranda knew whatever was going in, it wasn't good. "Shepard, I'm going to need that update now,"

_"We were ambus…ollector group, the rest of the team….behind a cargo door. I'm pinned down, there's no….handle them all myself,"_

There was so much interference, Miranda only hear half of his message before they were cut off again. "EDI, I need a solid connection!" She could hear static again, followed by clear audio of nothing but gunfire. "Joker, how close can you get to Shepard's position for a clean drop?"

He grinned, "I can drop you right on his head. As long as we don't reenact our last Collector visit,"

_"Miranda, you will not drop anybody anywhere near my position!"_ The transmission was too clear to write off the tone in Shepard's voice.

"We're not leaving you down there,"

She heard something resembling an explosion through the audio. And it sounded way too close, _"Saving humanity is more important than saving me, so you will not risk yourself, because you are not coming down here!" _

A quick glance over in Joker's direction gave her a curt nod from the pilot, and she gave a small grin back. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Commander. I sure as hell did not spend two years of my life bringing you back, just for you to get yourself blown up in a matter of months," and with a final message, abruptly ended the connection with Shepard.

"EDI, get Mordin and Jacob to the cargo bay." Miranda nodded to Joker, and his cocky smile somehow made her feel the slightest bit better about the mad thing Miranda was asking of all of them.

* * *

"Distance?"

_"Five clicks out, are you ready?"_

Miranda exhaled, "Absolutely," Jacob and Mordin's stood next to her in the cargo bay, subconsciously checking their weapons for what seemed like the twentieth time. "As soon as a give the all clear, I want you out of there as quickly as possible,"

Joker's voice echoed from her earpiece, _"No need to tell me twice. Drop in thirty seconds,"_

Given her mission history, Miranda hardly understood why she was doing something this insane. Any successful mission required sacrifices, and everybody wouldn't get back alive all the time. Miranda made these necessary decisions, leaving one behind for the sake of a mission wasn't a hard choice for her. The operative's duty was to a mission first and foremost, anything else was expendable.

But Shepard, something about him changed the typical mission into a totally different objective. Maybe something about him even changed Miranda's work ethic.

_No, Shepard _is_ the mission, and there's nothing else to it. I'm not going to let the last near two and a half years of my life get shot up on the battlefield._

_"Ten seconds. Go kick some Collector ass."_

As soon as the cargo bay doors cracked and began to drop her team was under immediate assault. Somehow they managed to scramble out of the _Normandy_ and into cover, shooting counter fire back at their enemies.

Miranda linked up communication, "Joker, go!"

The _Normandy's_ engines flared up, and she breathed a brief sigh of relief only when it could barely be seen by the naked genetic-altered eye. Finally turning her full attention toward the firefight, Miranda could see how bogged down the Commander had become. There had to be at least three platoons worth of Collectors swarmed around the small area. How Shepard managed to keep his cover alone was nothing short of impressive. Very impressive.

Jacob ducked behind a crate, bullets barely stopped by his makeshift shield. Their cover was fading fast, the crates couldn't stand up to the Collector firepower for long. "Miranda, we need to get out of here now! I don't know how the Commander was able to camp out this long, and I sure as hell don't want to find out first hand!"

There. Twenty meters northwest. Shepard was cooped up behind a stack of crates, the crude fort nearly gone. It was just a matter of getting over there that seemed impossible. Twenty meters of nothing to stop any bullets going her way, twenty meters where near a hundred Collectors would surely fire upon her as soon as Miranda left cover.

"Jacob, Mordin, I'm going to need the biggest distraction to the west you can manage without getting yourselves killed. Biotics, thermal grenades, anything you can think of," Miranda hoped the Collectors thought there were more reinforcements than just the three of them, because in reality it was all Shepard had left.

Jacob looked in her direction, a nod of confirmation changing her sight to the new destination at hand.

"Go."

She didn't look back, didn't wait to hear anything from Jacob or Mordin, Miranda didn't want to think about anything personal emotions but getting to Shepard. Emotions led to hesitancy. And hesitancy led to failure.

Explosions sounded behind her and Miranda saw Shepard look back, his eyes searching for the source but only found her. Miranda could feel the heat of the beam cannons the Collectors wielded, one nearly searing her as she also ducked behind Shepard's meager fort.

He gave a stern look in her direction, "Lawson, I clearly ordered you not to come after me!"

Miranda's trained eye sighted in a Collector and squeezed a cluster of shots off from her pistol, "Technically, in your absence I gain control of the _Normandy_ and her crew. My return here was merely coincidental and had nothing to do with your last known location,"

"Then what the hell did I hear you say 'We're not leaving you behind," for?"

Enemy in sights, pressure on the trigger, flash, enemy down, move to the next, "I surely didn't say that, it must have been some interference that caused you to assume I did, Commander,"

Pulling probably his last thermal grenade out, Shepard launched it into a small group of Collectors crouched behind a barrier, "You bring out the worst in me!"

She stopped shooting and looked over to him, "And you in me!" Truth. That was all Miranda could call it. When she was around Shepard, that's what it was. The worst. She had no idea what else it was, the state of 'worst' has never applied to her, until that man entered her life. _And if someone has a better name for it, than by all means diagnose me._ "I don't think you realise how important you are to this mission, and I am not throwing you away on that slim chance the rest of us six can make it on our own,"

Shepard opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as a Collector beam sliced through what was left of his cover, melting the Commander's shields like butter and through his armor like tin foil. The beam cleaved a path right through his left chest and shoulder, smoke billowing from the charred area.

Miranda felt her blood boil, maybe it was a stupid idea to come back. Miranda was angry at the Collectors. She was angry at Shepard for being so...Shepard. Angry at herself.

Movement. She looked over to see the single Collector with a beam cannon charging up another attack, aimed straight at them.

Something in Miranda snapped, conscious signals no longer in effect, and her body seemed to move on its own. She saw her hand go up, saw blue static shoot across the battlefield to the Collector with the canon, saw it encased in blue and disintegrate. She saw herself take advantage of the confusion, and send a wave of biotics through the area, a blue hued ripple killing any and all unfriendlies. Miranda saw herself near destroy everything.

Then she saw nothing, heard nothing, said nothing, but in place of those lost senses felt everything else. Despite it all, Miranda knew she was still throwing biotic attacks left and right. The energy built, and then swiftly expelled as more power quickly replaced it, only to be repeated again. The anger fueled it, the rage she had always buried deep crawling out of the hole Miranda kept her emotions in.

It was exactly what Shepard meant. And now Miranda concurred she was a risk to them all.

_Miranda._

She tried to fight it, push her anger back in its cell, but it somehow held a firm grip on ruling her actions.

_Miranda!_

Was she really going to let it end out like that? Give up control that easily? All that training, all for nought.

_Miranda Lawson, wake the hell up!_ It was like a buzzing in her ear, what was that?

"I'm not even-," She turned she saw Shepard propped against a container, a look in his eye which seemingly whispered that of worry. And of pain.

Only when she saw his wound did she put it together again, "Shepard, we need to get everybody out of here. Especially you, you've taken extensive damage,"

It was quiet, which in turn was very unsettling for operative. Jacob gave her a confused look, "Miranda, what the hell was that? There weren't even Collectors left, and you still kept on tearing this place to shreds!"

Miranda punched another thermal clip in her pistol, "Honestly, now is not the time for this discussion," she nodded toward the door, "Jacob, the door please. And I presume you brought something with enough bang to get it done,"

Giving her a last disconcerting look, Jacob pulled his newly upgraded ML-77 from his inventory and aimed at the large automated door, the one Shepard's team was stuck behind. He fired, the first missile impacted dead center, but it took near the remainder of heavy ammunition to blast a hole sizable enough. The smoke and dust hadn't even clearest before the other three squad members came pouring out, weapons drawn, looking for enemies.

"Jacob, I'm going to need you to take them back to get the Kodiak. Shepard, are there ground defenses here?" He went to answer her, but instead found himself coughing up blood. "Don't answer that, its worse than I thought. Mordin?"

The salarian blinked and nodded, omni-tool scanning over Shepard as he muttered medical terms to himself. An audiable click could be heard as Mordin applied omni-gel inside his wound. "Should be stable long enough for extraction. Would not suggest significant physical movement beyond walking. Breaths will be in short intervals, further medical examination needed immediately upon arrival on ship."

Miranda considered Shepard's current condition, and was convinced he was transiently fine as the Commander returned to his feet. "We got the guns up and running, but EDI needs to recalibrate them. Otherwise they're just scrap metal lawn ornaments,"

_"Defense tower is now 100% and under my control. I began recalibration and updates to software after Operative Lawson and her team were dropped on location," _There was a pause,_ "Should I fire, Commander?"_

"Hell yes, EDI,"

Vibrations could be felt underfoot as the defense cannons fired upon the Collector ship landed on the surface. The exterior was pummeled with Alliance slugs, flashes of light and small explosions could be seen all over the hull of the ship. Abruptly, the Collector engines fired up and began sending the ship up, shock waves from the accelerating engine power reached in all directions.

Miranda was tempted to get behind cover again, but she couldn't help but watch the enemy shoot through the sky, fleeing from them. It just proved they could be beaten and gave Miranda new resolve, they had a chance to take the Collectors, and the Reapers, down.

That, and the Collectors just took almost all of the colonists from the settlement. They were always just a step behind, and it was the thing that irritated Miranda above all.

Turning back to Mordin, she gave a nod to the doctor, "Shepard, let's go. There's nothing left for us here, and we-,"

"Shepard?"

Instinctively, Miranda pulled her pistol out and wheeled around, aiming at the source of the voice. And she would've pulled the trigger too, if Miranda didn't recognize who it was.

"Commander Shepard?" _Ashley's Williams, damn._ Miranda didn't see this one coming at all.

She didn't see Shepard turn around, didn't see his expression or reaction, Miranda only saw the spot between Williams' eyes where she'd plant a bullet through the sights on her gun.

"Lawson, stand down,"_ Definitely not,_ "Ash? What are you even doing here?"

She took a step forward, Miranda's still following with her pistol, "That's it? Two and a half years, and I don't even get a 'How've you been'? Shepard, I thought you were dead,"

"Yeah, well I might be here soon, honestly, if not from an alien laser beam then from being strangled by a certain crew member," he glanced Miranda's way, but she didn't fully see it, "Miranda, would you put the gun down already?"

"So those reports are true,"_ Reports? The Alliances has reports on us? _Williams' expression turned sour, "You are helping Cerberus,"

Shepard sighed, "Ash, human colonies are disappearing, colonists gone by the hundreds of thousands. Cerberus is the only ones who are doing anything about it,"

Bitterness, "What about the Alliance, or the Council? Anybody but Cerberus, the _enemy_,"

Miranda knew Shepard was getting frustrated, which could compromise his brief medical stability, "Ash, you _know_ me, you were beside me every second two years ago, you went through all the same shit with the Council and Alliance red tape. Do you remember how many rules we had to break to just go after the geth? A shit load. After all that, how can you say what I'm doing is wrong?"

And then she backed up, "Even with all the things we saw Cerberus doing, all the experiments we shut down, after _Akuze_, how can you think it's right? Cerberus are the ones behind all of this!"

Shepard was strangely calm, "Cerberus may have largely twisted methods, and seemingly self-centered goals and motivations," _Thank you for that, Shepard._ "But I assure you, they are not all the enemy,"

Ashley took a long glance at Miranda, "I know where my loyalties lie, Shepard, I always have. After everything we went through together, everything we had, I thought you would too," She turned to leave, a quick glance back in his direction, "I'm sorry to see your views aren't the same anymore."

She walked away. Williams turned her back on him, and that was just it. She didn't even want to try and understand. _This is exactly what I mean about emotions, they get in the way of rationality._ Ashley was out of view, out of range for any kind of shot, so keeping her pistol trained just seemed compulsive. Miranda finally looked over to Shepard, he was almost unreadable. Almost. The man looked near lost, he just stood there and stared at nothing. "Shepard?"

He took a pained breath, and held it before exhaling, "Yeah...Let's go. You were right, there isn't anything left here,"

He turned, back toward her, and walked the path returning to the Kodiak. And Miranda almost wished her finger had slipped on the trigger.


	8. Enterprise

A/N: I read this over maybe twice, I just want to get it posted before I procrastinate more. Don't be afraid to point inconsistencies out, I'd actually appreciate it.

A one month wait for a chapter is better than three months, eh? You people who can post like three chapters in one week are seriously_ insane._ In a good way.

Short chapters, for the win.

* * *

"-should be able to...Miranda, are you even listening to me?"

Abruptly sitting straighter, she looked up to see Jacob Taylor on the other side of her desk, giving her a confused look. Which Miranda happened to get a lot of lately. It wasn't just Jacob though, other crewmen whom she spoke to gave the same expression from time to time. "I apologise, you were on the topic of radiation?"

The weapon specialist seemed to reluctantly wave off her inattentiveness, and continued, "Mordin and I discovered that the Collector Particle Beam we picked up uses some kind of technology that manipulates radiation, and can focus it very precisely. Tests we conducted show it's less effective against armor, but even our modified armor types don't protect against such high levels of concentrated energy,"

No wonder it cut right through their shields and armor, it was exceedingly dangerous but Miranda knew it could prove to be a devastatingly beneficial weapon,"Is it possible to replicate this technology, or even upgrade it further?"

Jacob sighed, which was never good coming from him. Actually, sighs were never good coming from anybody, "Thing is, the make up of the technology is so complex I wouldn't have an idea of where to even begin. Collector technology is advanced, but I never thought it would be this advanced,"

The news was very disappointing. Miranda thought they had the best technology to offer, but once again their enemies were a step ahead. "If we can't duplicate it, any chance of a weapon is dissipated, but we still have defense,"

Jacob nodded, "I was thinking the same thing. Mordin has already begun working for a better radiation resistance in our armor that should be strong enough to give us a fighting chance,"

Progress is the best thing that could happen right now, "Good, we can't afford to keep taking hits from that, I didn't build Shepard invincible, I built him human,"

"Speaking of, have you even seen him yet?" Jacob took her silence as a no, "You're the only one who hasn't. He's been holed up in his cabin for three days now, even Jack took a visit,"

Truth was, Miranda didn't have time to see him. Upon immediate boarding of the ship, she accompanied him to the medical bay and to Chawkwas. As soon as she ensured Shepard was stable Miranda took up work once again, checking the status of the Normandy, receiving updates on Horizon, but most importantly tracking the collector ship. Even with their advanced equipment aboard, the collectors suddenly dropped off the grid and vanished, leaving no leads to pursue. And there was still the Illusive Man; Miranda preferred not to speak with him just yet, but she knew it was inevitable.

There just wasn't any getting out of this one, "If I do come across any free time, I assure you I will see him. But based on the list of things I need to accomplish, I'm quite certain that is almost impossible,"

"Don't do something you'll regret, Miranda."

She almost seemed to not hear him, her mind immediately returned to a growing to do list. As the executive officer worked ever more diligently, Jacob's words seemed to nag at the back of her mind. Miranda paid no initial attention to them, but they seemed to pay the closest to her. A sudden ping from her omni-tool prompted a message display from Doctor Chawkwas. It had been flagged as high priority, strange for Chawkwas on such a quiet day.

Nevertheless, Miranda saved her report over ship diagnostics updates as a draft and took a short trip across the deck to the med-bay. The door slide open to the doctor studying a data pad.

"I received an urgent message, Doctor, what do you need?"

Chawkwas held up the aluminum data pad she had been looking at, "I need you to take this up to Shepard,"

_Unbelievable._ "You flagged a message as urgent, so I could take a data pad to the Commander? We have the ability to put wireless communications to good use, Doctor,"

"I can't let such information fall into simple crewmen hands," Chawkwas gave her a look Miranda couldn't find a name for, and a smile to match, "And you are simply best suited for the job,"

_That's karma, Miranda. Even if you don't believe in it._ She couldn't find a reason to argue with the doctor. Something told her not to search for one either. But Miranda didn't say a word about it. Taking the data pad, she turned to leave behind Chawkwas with the small notion of a grin on her face, and a few words, 'Kids these days,' under her breath. It meant nothing significant to Miranda, so she pushed it aside upon entering the elevator.

"EDI, top floor. Commander's cabin,"

Vibrations could be felt through the walls, barely noticeable, as Miranda turned her attention toward the data pad in her hands. Activating it prompted a lock screen, password protection. Of course, she could quite easily crack it, Miranda felt almost insulted. But against her espionage laced nature she left it be, and looked up to see the elevator doors opening to her destination.

Miranda walked right in, she knew the door was unlocked as usual, to see Shepard on the cornered couch, his chest bandaged, reading a data pad along others scattered across the table. He looked up to meet her, his eyes gave off a sense of restlessness.

Miranda tried to find a place on the table where there was a free space, but it proved to be a futile decision and settled for simply handing the Commander his metallic package. "Chawkwas sent me to deliver this,"

A grin settled on his face, "I've got you running deliveries to me? I should get a hole melted in me more often, much better company than a wisecrack turian," he took the object from her, glanced at it, and promptly returned it, "Mind reading that to me, please?"

Definitely _not_ what she intended to do with her pre-planned short lived trip here. It was supposed to be a simple drop off, not a debriefing. "I'd need a password, Commander,"

His gaze settled upon three data pads laid side by side on the table, "One two three four,"

The man was ridiculous, "Are you serious?" He answered with a nod and she entered in the sequence, the system rerouted her to a series of medical charts and analyses. _Shepard, your security ideals are nonsensical._

She studied the information for a moment before giving her assessment, "The wound entrance is healed over, but the cavity within your chest will need another day to return to the original state. Thereafter, another day to ensure full tissue functionality,"

He betrayed no emotion, "I suppose I should thank you. If this were to happen two years ago, I would've been on the critical list for weeks. Probably even dead,"

The Illusive Man initially wanted no aid of health regeneration given to the Commander, but based on Shepard's service record, not to mention health records, Miranda managed to persuade her boss into thinking logically. Logic that paid of, very much so. "If that is all, Commander?"

He moved over from his seated position, "Sit, I want to ask a question,"

She couldn't linger, more work was waiting, "I should return to my office, there are issues awaiting my attention,"

He laughed and shook his head, "Oh just sit. This is work related for once. Did you get the new list of dossiers yet?"

She nodded and sat next to him on the couch, "I read through them, but I didn't think the Illusive Man would send them to you directly,"

Shepard's eyes gave a curious gaze, "What is your input, opinion on who we should pick up first?"

This was new, he usually just did what Shepard wanted to do, "Time is among our worst enemies, Commander. Based upon past friendships, Tali'Zorah vas Neema would be the quickest to convince of our efforts. Not to mention her knowledge of Geth and technology would provide a beneficial asset,"

Shepard took on an expression of understanding, yet dismay, "Even so, Tali is not the most friendly toward Cerberus, given their history with the flotilla,"

Miranda turned the data pad she held off, closing the medical charts to a black screen. "I believe you are graced with the abilities we need to accomplish any goal, Commander. I have no doubt you will exercise them flawlessly in gaining Tali'Zorah as an ally,"

"Abilities, huh?" His eyes searched hers, seemingly trying to find something from nothing, "Did you know I used to be a biotic?"

Miranda's mind ran through everything she had began studying little over two years ago, every piece of information, any scrap of data collected and read on then Lieutenant Commander John Shepard. Damn near alone, Miranda put him back together piece by piece, but not_ once_ were there notions of any eezo nodes. A small, near insignificant concentration of element zero exposure had come back on scans and charts, but hardly enough to be considered biotic.

Either Shepard was legitimately crazy, or Miranda missed an unmistakable significant detail to her subject. Which was blatantly inexcusable on her part. "Shepard, people can't just erase biotics from themselves,"

"You ready for a story?"

_This should be interesting,_ "I wasn't expecting one, Commander, but yes,"

He grinned at her and leaned back, "An earth-born kid in the slums is destined to have no real future in life, or at least that's what I was always told. I had a family, but broken by my father's escapism. He would spend any credits he got in his possession on cheap alcohol, stirring already short temper. My mother only stayed with him to support myself and my sister, but he took her money too," He looked away only to stare in the direction of the empty fish tank, eyes comprehending nothing in particular, "I was seventeen, my sister eleven, when I came home one day to find he beat my mother into unconsciousness. I just snapped, biotics tore him to shreds. First time I used biotics, last time I used biotics,"

Continuing on after a moment, he seemed to blink away a memory, "My body was nowhere near ready for the level of power I put off, overloaded and fried my eezo nodes. Doctors said I was lucky to be alive, that I should have been nothing more than a vegetable. Eezo nodes wiped out of existence and nerves fried to a crisp, I no longer can recognize pain like the average person. And thus ended my biotic abilities,"

Miranda had seen this listed on the medical records, but could never find the origin of the anomalies. No matter how many reports she searched through, reasoning behind his damaged nerves had always remained a mystery. "How could you rally power without prior knowledge of any biotics?"

Shaking his head, Shepard blue eyes moved to encounter hers, "Emotion, Miranda. Sound familiar? I couldn't control it because I was never trained that way. You can't control your emotion driven biotics because you were taught with strict self control,"

Miranda's initial presumption had been correct. Shepard _was_ crazy. "Are you telling me I can't even keep my emotions under management? Your theory must be flawed, Commander,"

"It's the truth, and you know it. But from personal experience, I can tell you keeping whatever emotion bottled up is the catalyst for something worse further on. I won't let you to end up like I did," He ran a hand through his short dark hair. Now that she thought more on it, Shepard hadn't a hair cut since his resurrection months ago. "Miranda. Pulling you from missions was only because I'm worried,"

It couldn't have been her, there surely was another explanation. "What about Jack?"

"You two have more in common that you think. She knows biotics the other way around, through emotions. When have you ever seen her use biotics outside of how she feels?"

She mentally grimaced. Even though Miranda knew Shepard was trying to help, being compared to Jack seemed more like a subtle insult. Miranda saw no similarities between the two of them, aside from biotics. Jack was just ridiculously wild and unpredictable.

"Shepard," A brief moment passed by, and her mind registered what she had been doing before her visit, "Commander, I should go. There are still pressing matters to be addressed,"

He nodded and looked back to his studies as she moved across the room to leave. Something still tugged at her conscience, causing a hesitancy in her motion. Miranda couldn't get it out of her head and she turned back for answers, seeing Shepard bent over all the information he had collected. "What...what happened to your sister?"

He looked up, but didn't look over to her, "Lived for awhile on Earth, but she was moving to another planet, in the Crescent Nebula. She never found out how our father died, doesn't know I'm working with Cerberus. She thinks I'm, well, dead," finally Shepard looked to her with an almost sad smile, "I keep a distant brotherly eye on her, at this point it's probably better." She exhaled and gave an understanding nod in return, but he seemingly wasn't finished, "Why do you ask?"

She didn't know what to say, didn't know what _not_ to say. Miranda ended up staring absently at him longer than ever necessary. Silence was her refuge, turning on her heel Miranda could feel his eyes on her back as she exited the room. The elevator doors welcomed the operative, she stood idly by during its descent, but her mind was perturbed. Of course, Miranda surmised she would never admit Shepard was right to his face, and now was no exception. Regardless of anyone's influence, Miranda knew she needed reform. Not only for Shepard's sake, but for her own sister's as well.

The elevator's movement stopped, but before the doors could open, EDI sounded over the intercom.

"Operative Lawson, a transmission link has been established in the Debriefing Room. The Illusive Man wishes to speak with you,"

She frowned to herself. It had been the one instant Miranda had no intention of actually returning to work either.


	9. Paradigm

A/N: My writing ethic is ridiculous, I know. But I will tell you now, I'm never going to just quit on this story. Even if it seems like it. I'm somewhat of a stubborn person.

Oh. And a virtual high five if you catch the Star Wars reference. I'm such a nerd :]

* * *

"Once again, you've done exactly what I would expect from you,"

There must have been a glitch in the audio link up. Did Miranda hear him right? After that ridiculous stunt she pulled to save Shepard's ass, she was expecting reprimand. "I'm not following, sir,"

The Illusive Man took a characteristic drag on his cigarette. There hadn't been a time when she'd seen him without one, "You took the necessary actions to protect the asset. I already knew Horizon was lost, but losing Shepard would have been a complete failure of everything we worked for,"

Wait, something wasn't making sense, "What made you realise Horizon was lost before we even dropped teams?"

"Because I set it up," What the hell? "I had a hunch the Collectors weren't just after humans, but Shepard too. Looks like I was correct,"

"You sacrificed the entire colony, just to test a _hunch?_" For once in her working history with Cerberus, Miranda was taken aback._ These aren't the ideals I signed up to fight for_.

"Miranda, look at the bigger picture; we now know more about the collectors than ever, their lives were not in vain, but in honor," she almost laughed aloud. Honor. What did the Illusive Man know of honor? As much as she believed in his goal, he was just man in a suit sending decent people to do his dirty work.

"We know enough to stop the collector attacks from occurring further. Sacrifice one colony, save the rest, you know that,"

He was right. The greater good of humanity, of the galaxy, demanded sacrifices. Working with Shepard for the past months Miranda has become more accustomed to his methods, and less than that of the Illusive Man's. _But our goals are still the same._

He nodded, seemingly responding to her thoughts. "You know what to do," and with that he cut the link, leaving Miranda alone in the briefing room with a bit more resolve of the mission's progress than before.

* * *

"Are you sure we're heading in the right direction?"

"According to the volus we asked, yes. But he did seem a little shady,"

"I knew it. I told you we should have asked someone else,"

"You're the one who suggested we ask him in the first place!"

Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose with a thumb and forefinger. They had been wandering the asari colony Nos Astra for hours, all while dodging questionable merchants and coincidentally bumping into ludicrous amounts of people who had a few kind words for the Commander. He had apparently gone above and beyond to help many more people than Miranda initially knew. Despite this, she was not surprised at all. How the man found time to help so many people, and yet still save the galaxy was beyond her.

Above the constant noise of Illium merchants, tourists, politicians, and news update centers, Shepard and Garrus' unceasing chatter were finally beginning to give her a headache. But for some reason she didn't mind it, Miranda actually found the two quite entertaining. She had been sent here on many various missions before, but the operative knew the dark alleys, shortcuts, and shady bars more than any mainstream sectors or districts. That said, even if Miranda could guide Shepard to his destination, she probably would choose not to. The sheer amusement of watching him amble along was much more fulfilling.

"Maybe we should contact EDI,"

"Garrus, if I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't much of an investigator,"

The turian's mandibles flared as he stormed off to the nearest local merchant, omni-tool glowing. Shepard turned back to her, a grin on his face, "You think he'll be fine, all alone?"

Miranda looked over to Garrus, and then to Shepard, answering him with only a small smile. His stature became rigid and his voice turned serious, but Shepard's smirk remained, "I concur, Miss Lawson. Now if you'll excuse me, I must perform my civil duties. Which begins with aiding a very distressed turian remove a stick from his very avian ass. Theoretically speaking, ma'am." He gave her a last glance and a last smile before bounding off after Garrus.

Miranda let out a suppressed breath and turned, sitting at a table in the nearby bar, ordering a glass of human based liquor. Not to drink, but simply to ward away any lingering suspicious eyes. Although she had faith in her fellow squad members, she did not have faith in their time management. Especially them both together, but how hard could it be, finding one asari Liara T'Soni on an asari colony? Shepard wasn't built for reconnaissance compared to his combat abilities.

Regardless, the man seemed to find information in some of the strangest places.

Not five minutes passed by before Shepard and Garrus returned, seating themselves heavily at her table. They both had a look of defeat settled upon their faces, and Miranda stifled a laugh. "Back so soon?"

Shepard shook his head, and an audible thump could be heard as Garrus' forehead hit the table, "We're terrible investigators, I know,"

She swirled the ice around in her drink, "Commander, would it help to know a copy of the map can be downloaded to your omni-tool?"

Garrus' head shot off the table to give a deadly glare, and Shepard turned to look at the turian, "Garrus, why didn't you think of this before?"

"Why didn't _I _think of this before? _You_ are the saviour of the galaxy,"

Miranda attempted to hide her grin by taking an unplanned drink from the glass, and Shepard raised a questioning eyebrow, "I didn't know you drank any sort of alcohol,"

Miranda gave him the same look back, "Considering your current predicament, I am not surprised,"

A laugh was heard from Garrus, "She called you out, Shepard, what are you going to do?"

The yellow hue from his omni-tool reflected off his armor, and Shepard stood, "Going to do what I do best. Which is saving the galaxy apparently,"

Garrus looked over to Miranda, with an amused look in his eye. "Good thing he didn't say picking up women. It's impossible when I'm around. Hell, its impossible when I'm not."

* * *

More than anything else, the one thing Miranda didn't understand was how the asari prothean archeologist turned information broker. It seemed such a large leap, going from discovering information about a past civilization to dealing information of a present one. Was is a sudden epiphany? A change of ideals in the past two years? A personal vendetta?

"- or I flay you. With my mind!"

Definitely a personal vendetta. As soon as she turned to see Shepard, Liara's whole demeanor completely changed. She looked surprised, relieved, her barriers brought down. Liara seemed the type who trust few, and even less to see this side of her, Shepard obviously one of the select. Gaining valuable information would come much easier to the group. If Shepard had taught Miranda one thing, it was past relationships more than often helped greatly in the future. He had the character to build these good relations, and the Cerberus operative was not yet familiar with the constant aid it brought. But she wasn't complaining either.

The Commander took a seat in front of her desk as Liara's fingers glided over the controls of a desk terminal.

"I need some information on possible recruits for my team,"

"I figured as much," she received a suspicious look from Shepard, "I've monitored you closely. I've known about Cerberus, your death, revival, who you've picked up so far for your mission. Not many things escape me, Shepard, I built my career on gaining information,"

He nodded, "This is understandable,"

The asari paused, "I heard Chief Williams was stationed on Horizon during an attack speculated to be Cerberus' work. Did you speak to her?"

Shepard looked pained by her words, and he visibly winced, "Ash...Chief Williams has moved on,"

Liara eyed him curiously, "But have you moved on?"

"The Reaper threat is the main concern," As much as Miranda was almost proud to hear him say it, Shepard responded much too quickly to be normal. At least, normal for a situation such as this. The Commander attempted to push it aside for the better of the mission, but Miranda knew it was eating away at him on the inside.

At that moment Miranda wasn't sure whether to be impressed with Shepard's new-found focus, or to worry over him because of it.

_The Commander is completely fine. Pull it together, Miranda._

Her omni-tool pinged an incoming message, and Miranda took the opportunity and busy herself to avoid the subject of Shepard. Anything was better than standing there, fretting over such a man whom needed none of it.

She thought nothing of the message, expecting such to be a mission status update from a Cerberus cell. Only it had been the last thing she would have ever expected.

_We have a complication. Need to meet immediately. Rendezvous Sullust. You know where to find me._

_-Lanteia_

To anyone on the outside Miranda would seem as cool and calm as ever, but beyond her mental barriers were many questions paired with worry. She looked up from the message to Shepard, his body language had relaxed and he had been simply chatting with Liara at this point. Garrus was poking objects on Liara's desk with a talon, curious of the small prothean objects she kept. There was no reason to pull either of them into her situation. The less people involved, the easier she could fix it. And before she could blink once more, Miranda disappeared down the stairs, out into the streets full of markets. She didn't turn back, didn't see Garrus' disbelieving look or hear him shout her name.

"Miranda!"

_Keep walking._

"Miranda!"

_Damn it, where was Lanteia? Eternity Lounge. Right? No, left. There. Fifteen metres, maybe._

A firm grip on her arm pulled her back, though surprisingly gently. Miranda was swept around, giving an agitated glare to the first set of eyes she met. She expected to see a turian attempting to drag her back the way she came. But it was Shepard who stood before Miranda, and he looked to keep his ground. Like a wall he stood, and Miranda knew this was not one to be moved with force.

There was no avoiding him, "Shepard, I answer to you, but I have a higher priority than any others, one set in place before I joined Cerberus," she gave him a hard stare, "It is completely unnecessary for you to interfere,"

Finally catching up with the other two, Garrus took a place next to Shepard, both looming over the Cerberus woman. She felt quite small in her position, causing the operative to stand slightly taller.

"Whether you're used to it or not, we're a team," he looked over to Garrus, acknowledging the turian's presences. Garrus nodded in return, more so to Miranda than Shepard.

"Shepard, I can handle this on my own, I don't-"

Abruptly his voice cut her sentence off, "This isn't an issue of ability, Miranda. I have no doubt you can handle it on your own,"

"But we want to help," Garrus added, even before Shepard could. The turian was constantly surprising Miranda. At first he seemed very cautious of her, always checking what he said or did. Now Garrus seemed less inclined to hold his tongue around her, even giving his own personal opinion in less than formal ways.

_So this is what a team is really like._ As much as Miranda wanted to say she hated it, she couldn't. It was comforting to know she wouldn't always be the only one being shot at while saving the universe from certain destruction. Never in her Cerberus career had she considered working with aliens, but it proved to be quite interesting, to say the least. And valuable.

She took a decided breath, "Alright. But my contact won't wait any longer, we need to go now. I'll explain all of this later,"

With a reassuring nod, Shepard followed as Miranda turned to enter the private room of the Eternity Lounge, housing her contact. A turn in she immediately saw the asari, patiently waiting. At first glance Lanteia had a very collected innuendo in her state of being, a double back showed something quite different. Hesitancy. Anticipation. A small amount of fear. Her eyes constantly wandering, searching, flitting with caution. She seemed as if any move she made would be a hazard to her health, so to say.

On the outside was something Lanteia wanted others to see. But Miranda knew her enough to know better. Usually the asari was as calm and collected as herself, but seeing Lanteia in such an uncharacteristic state was creating Miranda's own worry to grow. "Lanteia, what's the situation?"

Breaking from her standing position, Lanteia was slightly startled by Miranda's brisk entrance and straight-forward question. Nonetheless, she was very calm in responding, "He's found her, we've lost contact with our teams,"

"All of them?"

"All of them,"

This wasn't supposed to happen. If Miranda had seen Shepard and Garrus' looks of utter confusion, she hadn't acknowledged them at all. "Do we know what group he's hired, or where they're taking her?"

"Eclipse," she pulled up her omni-tool, "We don't know where she is or where she's going, but I have one last contact I can infer with,"

Running a hand through her hair, Miranda pulled it away from her face in an act of frustration. She felt helpless, weak. How could this happen, on her watch? Everything was slipping, she knew it. And at this point there was nothing Miranda could do, regardless of how much power she seemed to have through Cerberus.

A touch on her arm broke her thoughts, Miranda turned to see her squad mates' curious eyes upon Shepard's own bore through her barriers in a way that spoke to her fears, quelling them. "What's going on?"

And this was the part she normally loathed, having to reveal things about herself that opened a door wide to weaknesses and debility. Normally. The situations Miranda found herself in as of late were much less than normal, as were they all. But these specifically were simply profound; Shepard's trek across the galaxy had her going to less than normal places, meeting less than normal people, and doing much less normal things. That said, Miranda couldn't see herself doing anything else or going back to the old paced missions. At this rate, she was running blind, with a man reputably made of steel guiding her along the way.

"Remember when I told you my father created me, to be his dynasty? To be less of a person, and more of a tool for his empire?" A silence of acknowledgment from Shepard told her to continue, "I wasn't the only one he created, there was another. Oriana. My twin sister,"

A confused expression Miranda learned to recognize formed Garrus' face, "Wait, so there's another you?"

"We are not clones, Garrus, we are twins. In theory, our lives should be similar, but Oriana lives a very much different one,"_ only because of the efforts I've put in to ensure that, and now it's falling away._

"You took her with you when you ran," he looked as if understood, though she wasn't completely sure if their situations were the same.

Any attempt to ask him about it was then smothered out by Lanteia's return to their conversation. "Niket confirmed her last known location. It's not much, but it's a start., Transferring to your omni-tool,"

A small glimmer of hope broke through her cloud of frustrations, "Niket? He's the only left?"

"One man left when all the other teams have dropped off the grid?" Miranda could feel the vibrations through the air from Shepard's voice as he spoke behind her, "I'm not too sure your contact is very credible,"

She wouldn't think on his words twice, she couldn't. "I have known Niket since childhood, I trust him with my life, but even more so with Oriana's,"

His body language changed, somewhat submissive to her words, but Shepard's eyes showed no signs of any convincing. As much as Miranda had come to trust his intuition, Niket was a different story. He had seen what she went through everyday, how unhappy Miranda had been at the mercy of her father. If anyone could understand her mentality, it was Niket. "Do you have a plan?"

Her omni-tool beeped as the location address transferred through. She was last seen in the shipping district. Of course. To stay away from public eyes. "I just hope you packed extra thermal clips,"

An emphatic smirk placed itself on Shepard's expression, and it was the kind of smirk that said everything without saying anything. It was the one Miranda had grown to appreciate, having a way of annulling any kind of apprehension. That smirk told Miranda not to worry, and for the first real time, she didn't.

* * *

Smoke poured out the end of the muzzle on Miranda's heavy pistol as she cut down the last Eclipse mercenary. She wasn't surprised of the sheer number of them, but the relentless Eclipse waves were getting tedious. There wasn't time available to waste killing all of them, their pace was slowing down. Another squad of mercs rushed over down barricades, sending bullets hailing upon Miranda's own team. It was a moment to pick and choose her battles, and she gladly picked the elevator behind her over the enemies.

The door closed and she let out brief breath of relief. Progress. Miranda glanced down at the communication radio unit they had picked off a dead merc, the information relayed was troubling. Captain Enyala seemed to be giving out information, as if she knew they were listening. Incriminating information, at that.

_"Why aren't they all dead yet? Niket said he would handle the girl, all you have to do is make sure the bitch doesn't get here first!"_

All of that said, Miranda wanted to be certain it was just a ploy on their part, a tactic to throw her off. But deep down she knew something was wrong, believing it was Niket was the part she refused to recognise. Still, there was a glimpse of doubt that Miranda couldn't shake off.

Controls beeped next to her as Garrus punched in the level, "Cargo bay. This should be our last stop. Oriana could be down there," he looked back to Miranda, "But most certainly their captain will be,"

She felt the strange rush of adrenaline at his words. Ordinarily the operative was very calm going into any combat situation, but something made this different. "Good," she punched in a fresh thermal clip, pulling back the slide on her pistol as the two systems integrated, "That bitch has a thing or two coming to her,"

"What will you do if Niket is there as well?" Shepard brought up the one thing she was trying to avoid, as if he knew. She just wanted to sucker punch him sometimes.

"I trust him. He won't be there,"

Pulling out his assault rifle, Shepard held it on standby like the military man he was, "I don't think you believe that."

Before she could reply, the elevator's tone signaled the arrival of their destination, and the doors opened to the cargo bay. The first thing that came into sight was the asari sitting on a container across from her. An Eclipse logo on the merc's chest plate burned itself in her vision, no doubt Captain Enyala. Pulling her pistol up, Miranda trained her sights upon the blue alien's head, a second away from pulling the trigger.

"Miri?"

Left. She turned her attention toward the other source, gun following the trail of her eyes before it settled upon the face of a human. Miranda had only a split second to recognise him before a shot rang out. And her vision went dark.


	10. Regression

A/N: In delay there lies no plenty.  
I've been sitting on this for near 8 months.  
Not another edit, it's been too long.

* * *

_There was something about the way the ocean moved that was so foreign to Miranda. __Mechanical and biological m__an-made structures were what she was used to. Studies, training, tests; that is what she considered familiar, normal. But the ocean was different. The way it turned and chopped was quite an unusual sight to her._

_It wasn't as if she had never seen water before. Except it had all been pumped, its movement not of a natural ability. Such natural movement, untouched power on a large scale, was inspiring. She would get out one day, out on her own natural power. And not of her father's._

_"Do you ever wonder what's out there?"_

_What an easy question, "London. New York. Rome. Paris. Moscow. And then there's the universe,"_

_Niket snorted a few feet behind her, "You know what I meant, Miri. We've been here all of our 18 years. You have to wonder how different everything else must be,"_

_As much as she wanted to say no, Niket knew her too well to believe it. He had been there for it all. The things she had been through and told him of, Niket knew. Other than herself, he was the only who knew how badly Miranda wanted out from under the thumb of her ego-maniacal father._

_She still hadn't bothered to turn around, "I know exactly what is out there. My own life,"_

_An audible sigh from him floated through the air; he was about to lecture her. Or at least, Niket's attempt at a lecture. "It's not that easy, Miranda. You just can't get up and walk away from him. Nor can you go out there by yourself!" _

_Finally turning to face him, Miranda gave him a stare, only slightly cold enough to get her point cross, "I have already arranged transportation with my contact, I will no longer be of any service to my father within the next week. I am much more qualified than you want to admit Niket,"_

_He attempted to match her stare with one of his own, but swiftly abandoned the idea, "I know, I 's just difficult, you leaving and all. I guess I was a little selfish in trying to find an excuse to make you stay,"_

_"We'll keep in contact, as soon as the secure connection is set up," she settled for a less than demanding look, "I presume I can still trust you with those last few things?"_

_With a grin on his face, Niket set his hands in his hips, "You know me, tapping in on everything. Good thing I got a lot of practice bugging your room, huh?"_

_Miranda scowled, punching him in the arm, "Ass. I knew it was you!"_

_"There weren't many places to hide them!" Niket rubbed him arm, flashing another smile, "Do you need anything else before you go?"_

_"You just work on installing those surveillance jumper programs, I'll cover the rest,"_

_He gave her a nod, and a slow silence of understanding filled the space between them. Turning to leave, Niket headed back the way he came._

_"Niket?"_

_Halted by her voice, he looked back at Miranda._

_"Thank you. For everything."_

_He gave her an even wider grin, a look of understanding, and continued down his path, whistling the on way. Standing, Miranda watched Niket until she saw no more of him, and finally turn to her own destination after a long moment._

_Now there was just one last thing to do._

* * *

She was half expecting to feel some kind of pain tear through her, bullet impact, a searing burn, numbness. Except the only thing Miranda felt was a sickening worry settled at the bottom of her stomach; coupled with darkened vision, she was utterly confused. She blinked, sight still black. Only now did she notice, it wasn't her sight that was black, it was an object. More accurately, a person.

Shepard.

_Ass, what the hell is he doing standing in front of me?_

Reaching up to turn him around, Miranda's fingers lost any grip to a slicked surface, and she ended up pushing him to face her rather than pulling. "What are you-" _Oh_.

All Miranda saw was a hint of red on her glove, she didn't need to think about what it was either. Looking to his face, Shepard gave her the most absurd smile to date. He hadn't even noticed his chest was pitted with shotgun blast bullet holes.

Yet when the realization finally clicked, he went slightly pale and frowned.

Seemingly in less than real time, she saw Shepard begin to collapse, Garrus quickly rushing over, saw Niket's dumbfounded expression behind him, a blur of blue which was more than likely Captain Enyala. She was the one who let out the shot. And now she was running away.

The bitch.

Summoning her biotic powers, Miranda pulled the Eclipse captain back to their position, slamming her into the concrete. A sickening crunch echoed around them as a mass of bones were broken, but Enyala jumped back up with a snarl, apparently unfazed by the damage. The feral look she gave demanded a fight. Which, in Miranda's eyes, wasn't a problem.

"Miri, just turn around and leave," the small spoken demand from Niket seemed to stop them all, both Miranda and Enyala seemed to hesitate. "For your own good,"

Reflexively she pulled her gun's sights to his head, "The next word that comes out of your mouth had better be the truth, Niket,"

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but swiftly shut it at her words. A few moments passed by, and his gaze shifted down, "I'm sorry,"

"Like hell you're sorry! How could you just betray me?" A side of Miranda told herself to just shoot him, but the other side wanted answers, "You know all too well what I went through,"

He became somewhat defensive, "What _you_ went through! You never even gave her a chance, and I'm not going to take away a life full of riches from her just because of you!"

She let her finger apply the slightest amount of extra pressure to the trigger of the gun; a shot rang out and ended to burn through Niket's shoulder. "Then you know nothing, Niket. You may have been my only friend, but I'm not letting you take Oriana,"

Expression turned to a grimace, cradling his shoulder while takes few stumbling steps back, "If I knew you stole a baby, I would have said the same back then,"

She had heard enough. Taking a final look at the last friend she thought she had, Miranda moved her sights back to his head, finger tensing on the trigger. A cough and a gravely voice stopped her, causing Miranda to hesitate. She never used to hesitate with anything. "You never mentioned Oriana was a baby,"

Miranda took a moment to look over her shoulder, seeing Shepard's Carnifex carefully aimed beyond her to Enyala as he took a spot next to his XO. Based on the empty medi-gel units scattered around, it seemed Garrus had patched Shepard up enough. Either that, or he was just stubborn. More than likely, the latter was the truth. "She's a teenager now, living a life away from our controlling father," shaking her head, Miranda's cold stare shot back to Niket. "I didn't steal her,"

"I'm sorry Miri, but I'm not changing my decision," he stood a little straighter, pain flashing across his face, "By now they're probably heading off world."

Enough questions. She was ending it one way or another, "I'll never know which is more ridiculous; your sense of loyalty, or my mistake in trusting anyone," there was a finality in the way she held her gun, "It was a good run, Niket,"

* * *

_He had always kept the walls white, leaving zero room for any individuality or character upon them. No decorations, no colour, it was so impassive. Very fascist. Miranda felt more like she was living in a hospital, not a home._

_Nor was it a place adequate enough to raise a child in. Completely the opposite in fact, as Miranda saw it. Personal experiences were quite persuasive._

_The camera feeds had already been cut. Given the lack of completely competent personnel, Miranda estimated a window of two minutes were available. Just enough time to get in, and get out. And that was all she needed. No doubt her father will link everything back to her, but the past was behind her. Miranda no longer needed his approval, no longer strove to reach his impossible expectations._

_Forty-five seconds had passed; majority of her time was spent simply getting to the desired room; her starting point had been near the opposite end of the property. She rounded the corner and slid an ID card through the security access, and the door glided open._

"South patrol 4, there's been a security breach in your sector. Intruder unknown, do you have a visual?"

Damn_. They already figured out something was off, it would only be a matter of time before the squad reached the room she was in. _

"Scanners are picking something up, we'll check it out. Over,"

_Quietly, she slid through the doorway into the room. Even for a nursery, it was given little to identify it as so. Only a climate-controlled cradle stood to give any sign of life within the barren room. The little bundle inside, her genetic twin sister, was the only good thing left in this place. A small glance to the little baby's face dissolved any hesitation, and Miranda knew she was doing the right thing._

_She could at least ensure Oriana would never become like herself.  
_

* * *

The shot strayed left, grazing Niket's cheek. Miranda's arm was pushed aside by the shoulder of the bullet riddled man standing next to her, and he turned to give her an unapologetic look. "You don't want to kill him,"

"He is a loose end, Shepard," she moved her sights back to the first initial target, but Miranda still hesitated.

"Is that what you think? Or what Cerberus trained you to think?"

As much as she wanted to kill Niket, she couldn't; Shepard was right. And as much, and often, as he was right, Miranda wouldn't admit it. She never would, he knew that. And he seemed content with it as well.

Frustration levels grew, and Miranda almost threw her gun at her childhood friend, "God dammit, Niket! You had better leave now, before I change my mind,"

The adjacent asari mercenary snorted, "Scared little bitch," Enyala's Claymore went off before Miranda could process her actions, hitting Niket squarely in the chest. And with absolutely no armor, it impacted with bone-crushing force. Blood particles and bone fragments littered the air as he was thrown back, but before he landed Enyala had already swung her gun's muzzle in their direction.

A surprise shot from Garrus' sniper rifle clipped her in the shoulder, giving Miranda and Shepard a distraction to duck behind the nearest barricade. The turian began taking heat for his squadmates as fresh mercs started to fill the room with gunfire. Miranda heard the team's communication channel turn on, "I can guide them away for a few seconds, you two need to hurry up any come up with a plan before I get another scar to match the one already on my face,"

_It wasn't supposed to be this way._

"Miranda, we need to take out Enyala! Without her, the rest will scramble!"

_He wasn't supposed to die like this._

"Miranda!"

Switching to the same comm channel, Miranda addressed both Garrus and Shepard, "I'm going to use my biotics on her. As soon as she gets in your sights, fire with anything you've got to eliminate her barrier and shields down. Rifles, grenades, rockets, I don't care what you decide. After that, gravity will simply do the rest; Enyala will be defenseless,"

The subject of her biotics had become a sore one, but Miranda knew it would work. It had to, finding Oriana depended on it. Leaving cover, she began to walk toward where Enyala was last spotted. Garrus was causing such a commotion the mercs hadn't be aware of her location. Yet.

Shepard had moved from his position as well, following a step behind Miranda with his assault rifle trained. "Are you positive your bio-"

A blue flare surrounding her quickly cut him off, he resorted to keeping quiet and continued following behind. They finally reached the first merc, who was quickly cut down before he had the chance to alert any others. Moving up, a glimpse of blue and yellow could be seen beyond shipment crates and containers. With a raise of an arm, Enyala was lifted into the air by Miranda's biotics and quickly put into the middle of Garrus and Shepard's sights. The Eclipse Captain yelled commands to the mercenaries below, but Enyala had already began being fired upon and her shields were quickly failing.

Garrus chimed in over the comm, "Shields are down, her armor is at fifty-two percent. I'm moving ahead to the docking bay, I should be able to catch them before the shuttle takes off,"

Miranda pulled Enyala higher into the air as she looked over to see Shepard arm his rocket launcher with thermal ammunition. There was no hesitancy in his body language, bringing the sights up and pulling the trigger.

She didn't wait for the bloom of fire from the impact to dissipate, Miranda took little effort in increasing the density of the air around her target, and ultimately sent Enyala plummeting down at a speed faster than particularly necessary.**  
**

Shepard had been right; as soon as their own commander had been felled, the mercs scattered in different directions. The air was cluttered with the sound of their scrambling, stray shots directed at nothing in particular, and then silence. Yet all Miranda saw was the shredded body of a man lying across the way.

"You really were prophetic," she took a breath and a last glance before turning away, back to the eyes of Shepard.

"Are you alright?"

There was no time to think of anything else but her sister. Niket wasn't her primary concern; as much as Miranda wished it wasn't so, she would have to hold her thoughts of him until later. "My mission is finding Oriana, everything else is placed second on my agenda,"

Shepard reluctantly nodded, "Once this is over, we'll talk,"

Outrunning Shepard was like trying to catch a star. Damn near impossible. Even if she tried to avoid it, he'd pursue. Relentlessly, at that; Shepard was quite determined, and it was a quality Miranda found both the most interesting and the most irritating. Nevertheless, she gave a nod only her Commander could note. It would be a promise she would be able to keep once Miranda had relocated her sister.

_"Commander?"_

Eye contact broke as the Commander turned toward the docking bay's direction, "Go ahead Garrus,"

_"There's no sign of the shuttle. Oriana's gone, Shepard."_


	11. Mesmerize

A/N: Dictionary's word of the day does wonders for this story's chapter titles. I'm just so lazy.

Does anybody remember the last time I updated? Cause I sure don't. Ha.  
I figured typing all of this would be easier and more efficient on an iPad. Just know, that's a lie. Writer's block gets you just as bad, I say! And then, I cared not to edit.

Enjoy, good readers :] I will continue to strive to improve upon the time lapse between chapters.

* * *

"Shit,"

Shepard absently moved across his quarters, periodically dropping armor pieces at his feet. They fell to scatter, blood staining the inside lining. Eventually he had stripped himself bare from the waist up, exposing flesh torn and shredded by previous gunfire.

Surprisingly Shepard had been able to narrowly escape the medical gazes and scrutiny of both Chawkwas and Mordin. He slipped into the elevator to return to his own quarters, away from the eyes of others. In the field, Shepard had no time to address the wounds, aside from the hasty patch up from Garrus, so now had been the first time he had seen it for himself.

And it wasn't looking good at all.

"Shit," _Miranda isn't going to like this one._

The dull ache returned as the medigel effects began to wear off, even though it continued to barely hold him together. Shepard gave in, and dropped himself to lay on the bed. He could feel the sheets become soaked in blood that trailed from the wounds, but he didn't care. He was just_ tired._

"Shit,"

He continued to lay there, time moving across in a way that seemingly left little reality. Shepard wasn't sure if five minutes or five hours had passed when he caught himself closing his eyes. Yet he didn't fight it. He couldn't. Shepard decided it was best to just sleep, and he remained with his eyes closed and his mind drifting.

_"Commander? Damn. Shepard!"_

His eyes opened, a fuzzy world appeared with a distorted figure over him to match and a pain tearing through his body. All he could make out was dark hair until Shepard's vision became fixated on blue eyes.

And they made him forget everything else that had been going on. The eyes moved, looking to something he couldn't make out himself. With the absence of their gaze Shepard was left feeling alone, cold, and with a sinking sense of deja vu.

"EDI, tell Chawkwas to get up here now!"

She looked too familiar...

Miranda? "Damn!" Shepard struggled to simply move, his muscles screaming in motion of stirring. Yet his mind blocked it all as he attempted to force Miranda from his quarters.

Her smaller figure forced him back. The notion of Miranda overpowering him seemed completely ridiculous. "Shepard, stop moving! You're just causing more damage,"

"You can't see me like this!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I look like complete shit!"

He couldn't help but notice the smile tugging at her lips, and the mood slightly lightened. "Considering the circumstances, you look much less like it than you believe, Commander,"

Shepard found less of the need to force Miranda from his quarters, and more of one wishing she would stay. "So. You're not mad then?"

"Of course, I'm near furious," her eyebrows slightly furrowed as her expression changed, "What the hell were you thinking, standing in front of me?"

Before he could respond, the door opened to admit Chawkwas, and she looked straight to Miranda, "How is he?"

She stood to answer while her Cerberus demeanor returned, masking anything and everything, "Predominately clustered gunshot punctures and burns, a few lacerations and contusions. BP's 83/65, but it seems to be elevating gradually. Any tissue damage has already begun first stages of repair, although he'll need significant bone grafting and blood transfusions," Miranda glanced to Shepard and back, "Stubborn, as usual,"

The doctor nodded, not needing to check Shepard herself to know Miranda was right. She looked away to Shepard, "You heard your XO. You'll be in the clinic for at least a week,"

That meant a week of no missions. No fieldwork, no training, no attempting to save the galaxy. No Commander Shepard.

A sudden sting to his arm jolted Shepard from the floating thoughts and he looked over to see a small red ring begin to appear on his skin. They goddamn sedated me.

Miranda seemed to hear Shepard's thought simply by the expression on his face. "It's for your own good, Commander,"

His arm reached out to grasp anything to keep himself awake merely by instinct, but this was something he couldn't fight. Objects around him began to move in and out of focus as Shepard's brain began shutting down his optical functions, and he was left to the same scene he had woken up to. Shifting black and beautiful blue.

* * *

The debriefing room's doors hissed open to allow an exit for Miranda Lawson, who purposefully and swiftly made a course for the elevator. Following the small search and rescue mission of finding an injured Commander John Shepard within the ship, Miranda quickly set up a meeting with the Illusive Man. She had compromised their asset. He was not pleased. He compromised Oriana's location. Miranda was more so not pleased. Simply put, their exchange was quite opposite of cordial.

As she entered the elevator, the small light of the CIC level was illuminated, and Miranda pondered what she was even doing aboard the Normandy. The Illusive Man's policy of kill one, save a thousand was beginning to appeal much less to Miranda in her days under Shepard's command. Now it seemed like not helping those in dire need that came across their path might as well been shooting them in the face, and Shepard gave a new light to 'humanitarian' that Miranda never saw before. Both of the men were near opposites from each other, and she began to wonder who to_ really_listen to.

But she also couldn't leave Oriana. Continuing the mission given to her by Cerberus meant abandoning the thing Miranda cared the most for, and she wasn't sure that sacrifice was worth it. As much as Miranda wished to say the opposite, she wasn't necessary to their main goal, or to Shepard. The team they had assembled was quite a formidable one, and Miranda was certain they would achieve anything. Even without her.

Oriana would never be able to achieve anything without her either.

The choice was clear to Miranda, although the Illusive Man would surely attempt to convince her otherwise by speaking of Cerberus loyalty and the greater good of humanity. But Miranda's personal humanity called her to Oriana, not a man whose methods called for destruction before construction. The only thing left in question was how to break it to him. More so, how to break it to Shepard.

But after considering his current predicament, Miranda began to think she wouldn't have to tell him at all. Shepard was ordered to remain confined in the med bay for at a week, the most. During which time, the XO could take her leave of the ship, and return to the search for her sister due to a sudden "mission". It didn't sound like the best way to do things, but Miranda knew it was the most logical and the most plausible. The operative knew how to cover her trail quite well after a lifetime of practice. All was left was the action, and it needed to be carried out before she began to hesitate on the decision.

She turned to gather little of what she needed, and none of what she didn't. "EDI, wipe trace data of my presence from the ship. Tell the Commander, at his own medical convenience, that I've taken on a Cerberus mission and I leave Officer Vakarian in executive command in my absence," Miranda would return later to completely purge the systems of any sign of her EDI had missed.

The blue glow of EDI's avatar illuminated the side of the room, "Miss Lawson, I detect no record of such a mission from Cerberus networks,"

"Just tell him, EDI,"

The spherical hologram disappeared, leaving her digital laced words echoing in the room, "You may wish to tell him yourself, the Commander is approaching your quarters now,"

Her door opened before Miranda could think of a solution, admitting her Commander into the room. He seemed unscathed, as if the week went by in a few hours. The sedative was intended to keep him out for more than just a couple days. Damn metabolism. "Miranda I wanted-"

"Shepard, I'm leaving"

Miranda knew telling him bluntly was the only way to tell Shepard anything that point, and the blank look on his face seemed to verify that. She turned and swept past him to the doorway. Any amount of confrontation was the last thing Miranda wanted.

"At least...tell me why?"

He could have said anything else; anything else would have been preferable actually. The executive officer turned back to face him, her tone kept professionally, "This ship and crew have been put together to save humanity, under your command. I have no doubt that you will lead them toward that goal, but it's no longer a goal where I am needed," there was no going back now. "I'm going after Oriana, she needs me for than anything else,"

Leave now, Miranda. No hesitation. No regrets. She turned back toward the door, watched it hiss open to admit her to the hallway outside. But their few worded exchange seemed to not be finished, as Shepard took her hand and gently pulled her back. Back to the conversation she dreaded and the face of a Commander who was difficult to dissuade.

"Oriana doesn't need just you, Miranda. She needs all of us," He wasn't helping her cause at all. "Saving Oriana is just as important to me as saving everybody else, you're not the only one who's worried about her. And she's not the only one who needs you,"

No matter how much Miranda wanted to give in, her nature told her to fight. She had always stood by her decisions to the end in the past, what had changed now? Shepard had a way of getting under her skin, speaking words that convinced even the most stubborn part of her. He had already gone to help rescue Oriana once, Miranda couldn't bring herself to ask that of Shepard again.

She looked back to the open door, beckoning her to toward a duty Miranda felt obligated to. This wasn't something she wished Shepard to be caught up into. Her father had already negatively affected more lives than he should ever had the chance to, Miranda wasn't willing to add Shepard to the mix. He needed to be removed from the situation, whether she preferred it or not.

"Shepard, I simply can't work with you! You're rash, completely unorganized, and you have a tendency to step in front of every bullet traveling in any direction! Not to mention you're the most abrasive and unpredictable man I've-"

His sudden movement silenced her, closing the distance between the two and meeting with a kiss that left Miranda dazed as well as numb. And the worse part was she found herself leaning ever farther into it, without meaning to, without caring either. It wasn't simply a craving, to feel his skin on her own. It was a need to feel more of it. Now Miranda acted on that need opposed to her usually calculating conventions, pulling him in closer and deeper. She could feel his surprise in the fleeting breath he took, feel the smile on his lips.

And then the other side, the high ranking Cerberus Officer, director of the Lazarus Project, Executive Commander of The Normandy, and simply put 'Ice Queen', kicked in and was sent into overdrive. She went from falling further to breaking away, halfway reluctantly leaving Shepard grasping at air and looking confused. Any expression on Miranda's face melted away to leave a cold stare she struggled to keep. As much as her mind said no, everything else fought against that and continued trying to coax her back into his arms.

Miranda's posture became ridged, and her tone of voice close to biting, "I presume you are aware of the door's location and can let yourself out,"

Pushing Shepard away was the only thing she could do to prevent further fanning any flames. And right now, her own personal wants were the last thing Miranda needed to pay attention to, not when her sister was out there, alone. Her eyes watched Shepard as he turned to leave without a sound, and the look in this own eyes told her a story of guilt. It was only after she knew he had left the floor that Miranda let her emotionless expression fall.

She was angry at herself, how selfish she had been. Oriana was the most important and attention demanding situation right now, not something as ridiculous as vasopressin and oxytocin in her brain. Miranda knew Shepard would be trouble, and should have avoided his touch like the plague; physical or not.

Nothing could ever come of them. The distance was required, she couldn't let him become something Miranda knew she would want, _or need._ Yet whether she would admit it or not, Miranda was afraid he already had.


	12. A Brief Update

I just wanted to give you guys a quick update, before I leave. I know I posted the last chapter over 6 months ago, and haven't updated since. And I apologise immensely for my major lack of activity.

It's been the most hectic 7 months of my life. I just got my computer built, the last one couldn't handle work anymore, and it seems Apple and my iPad did not enjoy this fanfiction website, or me trying to get on it. Between military training, making sure my college doesn't screw up again, and working out living arrangements, it's been tough. I'm actually being shipped out in 2 weeks for more training, so you definitely won't hear from me until next year (woooo, New Year's update!).

I just want to you all to know I haven't given up or quit this story, In fact I have quite a lot written. I just can't continue it as of right now. It's simply in a state of limbo.  
But you will definitely hear from me in the future, I will be back =]

Thank you all so much for following and reading this story, writing reviews, and telling me what you think of it. Good or bad. Criticism is awesome in all forms. I appreciate it so much. I think the next time you hear from me, I will post the rest of this story. It shall be ending soon, I can't keep you all from it for another year after this one x] That would be a jerk move haha.

Thanks again-

00Captain Crunch


	13. Deliverance

Well. I wrote this about 7 months ago, and I have no idea where I was going with it, actually. Haha.

I had to reread like half of my story just to figure it out.

I actually finished this like a month ago. But I just now was able to post it. Lack of Internet access sucks.

Hello from the USO :) sorry for lack of editing.

* * *

With a last pull on the slide and an unmistakenable familiar click, Shepard checked the chamber of his Carnifex and holstered the weapon. The last mission it had been taken on left the gun rendered useless after Shepard ran out of thermal clips, and then was used as a melee weapon at a very close charging krogan mercenary. The krogan had gotten the worst of the brawl, but Shepard's gun was a mangled mess, and required replacement.

Jacob Taylor had ordered a new one, and upgraded the weapon exceptionally well with custom modifications. With reduced recoil, high capacity, and less of a tendancy to overheat a thermal clip prematurely, Shepard was more than eager to test its functionality in live combat. Which was very soon, according to EDI's reports.

Shepard moved from the armory and down a floor through the CIC, giving reassuring nods to crewman who met his sweeping gaze. They look to him for guidance and leadership, and Shepard wanted to make sure they knew of his appreciation for their trust. The Normandy's crew was an exceeding brilliant team, Cerberus or not. Their fight against the Collectors would be null without such a strong support group.

"Commander, sir, do you have a minute?"

Shepard turned to see Crewman Rolston approach, he seemed slightly hesitant, almost worried; the man was generally very well spoken and enthusiastic. "Sure. I've got about two hours before we hit planetside, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

Rolston looked to speak, but his gaze averted to the floor. Shepard could sense the subject was intended for him only, not the whole CIC. With a pat on the shoulder, he nudged the Crewman over to the main battery. The doors slid open and revealed Garrus hunched over his rifle, who seemed to be arguing with himself about heat sinks and muzzle breaches. He turned to greet Shepard, but Garrus seemed to sensed he should be somewhere else at that moment, and excused himself.

The doors hissed shut behind Garrus, and Shepard's full attention was back on the restless crew member standing next to him. Shepard felt as though his crew deserved a connectable yet reliable leader, and dropped formalities. "Okay, Rolston. What's up?"

"Well, you see Commander, I know we are at sort of a dead end, right now, and-"

With a raised hand, Shepard stopped him. "Rolston, you can be as blunt as you want. Right now, it's me and you. Not commander and crewman, but friend to friend,"

He nodded. It seemed like Rolston would take a moment to collect himself, but Shepard received a response quite quickly. "I don't know if I can do this anymore,"

The statement would have been surprising, only if Shepard hadn't known the amount of pressure that was on all of their shoulders. He could watch the anxiety rise everyday; the fear and doubt was beginning to seep into the ship like a slow plague. "Why?"

"I know I signed up for a suicide mission. But..." Rolston sighed.

Shepard knew exactly whe this was going. And he didn't blame his crew member one bit. "You're afraid your daughter isn't going to grow up with her father," Horizon hit home for everybody, but not as hard as it had hit Rolston. His family had barely made it out of the colony alive, but the wait for that news must have been agony for the crewman.

Rolston simply nodded. He couldn't bring himself to speak it, the look of fear in his eyes spoke enough for him. But there was also relief. And guilt. There wasn't anything Shepard wanted more than to see Rolston with his family again. Shepard wanted that not only for him, but for everybody.

He put a reassuring hand on the shoulder of the frightened man in front of him, "Rolston. I can only imagine what you must feel right now, and I want to say I'd probably feel the same way were it me in your position. To imagine someone I love, worrying about ever seeing me again, that's scary,"

Rolston binked back tears, ones of deliverance and heartache. Who knows how long he had been keeping all of his feelings pent up. Now that someone understood his fears, Shepard knew his crewmember was trying to keep himself together, and avoid a breakdown. "Rolston, you were chosen for this mission for a reason. If we don't give our 110 percent, then where is the hope for the billions of other families in this galaxy? Human or not? If we don't do this, your little girl, and every other little girl in the universe won't have a father either."

With a thumb, Rolston tried to rub the tear from his eye, and took a deep breath. "Shepard. I don't know where we, or I, would be without you as our leader," He looked his Commander in the eye and gave a small, yet relaxed laughed. "How could I be so selfish during this time?"

Shepard smiled back, and gave a last reassuring clasp on his shoulder as the two turned to the door. "Because you are human, friend."

* * *

The irons sights of the Carnifex moved from object to object, scanning empty areas and leaving Shepard with an odd pit in his stomach. Every Eclipse facility they hit so far on this planet was barren and seemed abandoned. The proof was right in front of his face, but EDI had just updated her information an hour ago, showing human heat signatures all over this area. Something about this place did not sit well with Shepard, and he was bent on finding out what.

"Shepard," the accent-laced voice of his CO caught his ears a few steps behind him, a strange quiet tone, "I've got a bad feeling about this place," Miranda had made herself quite scarce the past few weeks, and Shepard knew it was deliberate. Shepard had no intention on treading into her space either, and remained on his own small project he had taken.

Shepard flipped on the channel for the comm the other teams were set to, "Bravo one two. Status?"

"_Negative_," Zaeed's gravel voice broke through.

"Charlie one three, this is Alpha actual. Have you gotten anything over there yet?"

A small hiss later, Garrus's voice came over the small speaker, _"Just as dead over here as you are,"_ the turian gave a small chuckle to himself. _"We've gone through another three small compounds, and there's not even a risidual heat signature on anything. Oh, wait, Jack says she needs to talk to you,"_

There was a small rustle, and a moment after silence Jack's voice was screaming through to everybody on the channel,_ "SHEPARD, I fucking swear to some damn Asari Goddess bitch, that if me and tankborn shit over here don't get some Eclipse motherfuckin' pussies to kill or blow the fuck up, we will find you after this shitty shit mission and-"_

"Bosh'tet!" The comm went dark and the small Quarian behind Shepard threw up her arms. "I thought Joker said he had fixed this junk communication system, it's been glitching this entire mission,"

Shepard switched to a different channel, and then back again,_ "-and the things biotics can do to fuckin' fleshy bodies-"_

He turned it off and looked toward Tali smiling, "I'll have EDI triple check next time," he turned back to the complex, partially covered by trees. The small path from it led to an open field, toward their next destination. There was no cover, so Shepard's team would have to skirt the treeline to feel somewhat less exposed.

The temperature dropped a few degrees, and a wind picked up that rustled the tall grass throughout the large field. The light atmosphere around them seemd to tingle, like lover's kiss on bare skin, and the slight hue increase of the sky told Shepard that they should be prepared for something. Except he didn't know what exactly.

A slight hum began to rise in the air causing Miranda to shift, unusual to her normally confident demeanor. The hum grew and turned to loud vibrations echoing deep in Shepard's chest, the small tingle increased similar to a slow sunburn. Suddenly a strong force swept over them like a tidal wave, full of vibrations and static. The passed as quickly as it had came upon the group, and they were left a little perplexed.

Except Shepard felt like he weighed a ton, it was a struggle to even take a step and his muscles were straining against the weight. The data display in his helmet had disappeared as well, leaving his vision strangely barren.

"What the hell was that?"

Something was wrong with the artificial muscles and braces in Shepard's suit, usually they supported the heavy weight of the armor to reduce the strain on simply wearing the suit. But as Shepard reached for his Omni-Tool, he saw it wasn't working, and neither was the protection encasing him. He was just a man in a big metal suit. _Shit_. "That was an EMP,"

Tali moved to check everything they had on hand, "Kinect barriers and storage cells have been knocked out, communications, internal autotargeting, precision support, shield generators, electronic based sights, all of it is down. In a nutshell, we have nothing," Tali's body language changed, suddenly tensing up and showing a slight panic, "No electricity means no mass effect fields..."

"So?"

Instead of Tali responding, it was Miranda. And her faced showed slight distraught. "All of our weapons use miniature mass accelactor technology, mass effect fields and magnetic force to propel the bullets. No mass effect field, no guns. And no biotics,"

_Ah fuck_. This wasn't what Shepard wanted to hear at all; no weapons, no communications, and his armor weighed a ton. Wait. "Tali, if the EMP hit everything, why is your suit still functioning?"

The Quarian seemed to ponder for a moment, and then shook her head, "Our suits have a two-fold countermeasure against situations like this. Apparently, the back ups booted up after a brief period of complete system failure, on their own generator," her omni-tool lit awake as she waved her hand across Shepard. "It seems your suit's generators have been knocked out,"

Shepard snorted, "Of course. Well, a metal prison does me no good," Pieces of the suit began to fall to the ground, locking mechanisms broken as he pulled them apart. All that was left was his Normandy crew uniform, and a pile of metal that was Shepard's armored suit in a previous life.

His CO examined the pile of scrap with some disdain, "That suit cost Cerberus a fortune, you know,"

A glint of metal in the sun, and Shepard's combat knife was free of its sheath. The last defense he seemed to have, "So did I. I don't remember how much exactly, but I'm quite certain you do," he turned to Tali, watching her study charts and blueprints on her omni-tool. "How much longer until you can get the communications back up?"

She shook her head, "I possibly can get our end functioning, but I can't get the other team's up from this distance. Especially with this EMP tech, it's nothing I've ever seen before,"

Damn.

"Shepard," he turned to the source, Miranda, and knew she saw their situation as just dire as he did. "We haven't found anything on this planet. We have no weapons, no biotics, no communication. And even if we do find something, perchance, it is highly not in our favour. You need to call it,"

How was EDI wrong? She sent him the scans, the charts, Shepard saw it all himself. Was this personal mission of his really a chase for a ghost? A ghost he thought would bring him redemption? Such a thing must be a myth, it seemed.

There were flares built into the backpiece of his suit, unreliant on electricity. He pulled a few from their compartments and pointed to a building near hidden in the trees, a few hundred meters in from the tree line. "Look, this vast open field has very little cover. We'll check that last place out over there. If there's nothing, we'll pull a three-sixty on one of the smalled buildings and throw up a signal for the other teams. And unfortunately anything else out there,"

The trek through the vegetation was agonisingly slow. The lack of functioning equipment left the group moving very cautiously, and the short trip of a few hundred meters left Shepard feeling like he needed to take a few lessons from his Drell squadmate. The exterior of the building looked just like all of the others they have ventured to; empty, hollow, forgotten. Yet if there was a thermal chart for this area, Shepard knew it would show a different story. All the rooms were void of life, as expected.

"Well then, it seems security is in order," Miranda gave Tali a short nod. "Shepard, I'm not really sure what we've been doing on these past few missions. I just hope you do,"

They both left from the concrete room, Miranda leaving Shepard with a sidelong glance before she disappeared. He was beginning to share those opinions. Did he even know what his goal was anymore? Ever since that event on Illium, Shepard hasn't felt like the Shepard everybody thinks he is. He hasn't felt heroic, or proficient, or like the leader he should be. He failed, plain and simple. And not just failed a mission, but Oriana. He failed Miranda, he failed a team member. How did Shepard deserve their loyalty, if he couldn't help them when they needed it most?

He didn't. And it was unacceptable.

The stone was cold beneath his fingers, the cracks between bricks showed an old face In the rock. And yet half was new; metal, flawless. It perplexed him. This dead place, why would someone upgrade and leave?

And then he felt it. Wind. From where? It was so slight, it had to be a facade in Shepard's mind. No, there it was again. The cracks?

_The fuck... _

His eyes trailed across the cracks, leading him to see a very small square which had be cut where metal met stone. His thumb traced the square, curious of its origins.

And then it began to glow under his touch.

_What the fucking fuck._

Holographic screens were projected onto every surface there was in the room, images and colours danced across Shepard as they presented themselves.

"Electrical anamoly detected. Backups initiated. Rebooting...Input required,"

Voice commands? The Normandy Commander pondered for a moment, "Access last entry,"

The room went momentarily dark as all of the files closed, and a single video file attempted to open.

"Data corrupt. Reconstructing now,"

The video Shepard was shown was only partially complete video, it looked as though it was only the middle section. The beginning and the end were too far gone to recover. It was of a human, some kind of scientist it had seemed. But embroided on his coat was the all too easily recognisable Eclipse logo. The timestamp on the video read only two days ago.

_"I'm not sure how we didn't pick them up on our scanners. We don't know who, or what they are. I've uploaded all of my data onto the main server, hopefully my collegues will recieve the files. Of course, the packet is encrypted,"_

The audio cut out, and the scientist looked back towards the door. The video shook, and Shepard heard an odd humming as the audio returned.

_"I've put her under these very floors, access is limited, yet possible. Once the threat is eliminated, I will resume my observations, and my research will continue. So far the experiments have yeilded fascinating-"_

The images disappeared, and Shepard's surroundings went dark. "Data corrupt. Input required,"

"Access blueprints," The facility was expanded on the wall, showing lines and numbers that formed the building. A red dot was placed on the map were Shepard presumed he was, next to a number. Fourty-seven. All of the rooms were numbered in sequence, with a total of sixty-five. Yet in the same box as this room, there was a single letter, E.

"Access Echo,"

The ground beneath his feet suddenly moved, blocks moved down various depths creating a staircase leading under the room. Leading to what?

_To her. Holy shit, what did I get myself into._

Peering into the hole in the floor, Shepard was slightly torn. He backed up to the doorway, and called out for his teammates. There was no response after a few minutes, but Shepard didn't want to leave the passageway by itself. Go in by himself?

Ah. Fuck it.

Breaking the seal on one of the stationry flares, Shepard descended with his red light leading the way. The steps lead him far, he wasn't sure how far, but it felt like forever. With the flare in one hand and his knife gripped tightly in the other, all he could do was take the steps down, and see where they led. _No fucking electricity, a flare, and a big ass knife. What the fuck is this, the Temple of Doom or something_.

He suddenly came across a door, with an access pad. It lit upon his approach, prompting for palm recognition. Humanity might have thought very highly of Shepard, but his hand wasn't magic. There was no way he was going through in that method. Instead, Shepard slide his knife into the console, causing a surge of electricty and a shut down of the panel. The door hissed open.

The only thing on the other side was a tiny dark room, as barren as the top level of the facilty. Shepard scanned the room one last time, seeing nothing of import. It was just as he was about to turn around that he heard it. That small sound. Something in his mind? No. He heard it again. Shepard took a step into the room without thinking twice, red light before him.

_What the hell am I doing_.

The sound returned again to his left, Shepard turned toward the source. A form, human. Seeming to try and make itself smaller, compacted into the corner. _I've put her under these very floors_. Her. Who? The red light illuminated the small woman, only to see Miranda's face staring behind folded arms at him.

She was Miranda, yet...not Miranda. Holy shit.

Oriana.

Metal clattered to the floor as Shepard tossed his knife to the other side of the room. She didn't need a stranger with a weapon, Oriana needed someone with hands free to help her. Kneeling in front of the small figure, Shepard spoke soft words, unsure of her mental state. "Oriana, I'm here with your sister. My name is Shepard. We're going to help you away from these people, okay?"

Oriana moved with a quickness Shepard almost didn't register at first, wedging herself in his arms, as if he would disappear forever if she was any further away. The quiet stricken sounds and shaking coming from her told Shepard more than any words ever would, and he wished he could make the memories go away. But he couldn't, Shepard couldn't even make his own memories go away.

The Commander pulled Oriana from the floor and into his arms, carrying her back up the staircase in which he came. He wanted to make sure Crewman Rolston got a chance to meet Oriana, to see the reasons they were all fighting this fight. Why they needed to win.

Except Rolston wouldn't be waiting for him when they all returned to the Normandy. In fact, nobody would be waiting for them.


End file.
